


Chaos & Kadaj

by VendettaSmiles



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8050072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VendettaSmiles/pseuds/VendettaSmiles
Summary: When Chaos and Kadaj are returned to the Planet, each experiences sole dominion over his own mind and body for the first time in a very long while. An ancient being and a temperamental teen – what could possibly go wrong? No slash. Post DOC. Slight AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Kadaj felt the moment Sephiroth retreated from their shared body. While he welcomed the return of control, he felt bereft at the sudden emptiness. Mother and Sephiroth had both left him. Alone. This was wrong. All wrong. Steeling himself, he turned to Cloud, the one who had ruined it all. He would end Cloud once and for all and then figure out how to bring Mother back again.  
Using the last of his energy, Kadaj staggered to his feet, lunging abruptly at Cloud. His body gave out before the lunge was complete, exhausted from battle and mortally injured. He was powerless to prevent himself from falling towards the ground. Failure. The word rang in his head. His worst fear. He had let Mother down – he was a failure.  
Unexpectedly, Kadaj felt himself caught in strong, gentle arms rather than falling to the ground as he had anticipated. He looked up into clear blue eyes.  
“Brother?” Kadaj felt his strength slipping away as he rested in the arms of the man he called brother. The same man he had fought at every juncture. The one who refused to see the vision and refused to listen to Mother. But now – in this moment – Mother was gone, Sephiroth was gone. The only one here was Cloud, and Cloud was holding him in his arms and looking at him like… like a brother. Never had he experienced such compassion from Mother. He felt warm and strangely dizzy as he watched the light rain falling on his pale skin.  
“Kadaj.” A gentle female voice was calling his name.  
“Huh? Mother? Is that you?” Kadaj asked as the most peaceful sensation he had ever known flowed over him. A laugh like a thousand bells answered him. Tiny bells, not like the deep Wutainese gong or the bells in the church steeple, he thought, but cheery silver bells like those that sometimes hung on shop doors.  
“Why does everyone keep calling me that?”  
Kadaj would call her anything she wanted as long as he could stay here in her presence. He curled a fist and reached upwards, into the rain and toward the magical voice. Green wisps billowed gently upwards around him, slowly obscuring his view of Cloud. Distantly, he wondered what the green wisps were or where they came from, but it didn’t really matter anymore. All that mattered was that voice.  
“You don’t have to hold on any longer. I’m waiting for you… if you’re ready.”  
He was ready. For once, everything slipped out of focus and ceased to matter. Not Sephiroth, not Mother, nothing. Just peace.  
“Where are we? Am I dead?” he asked. He had not expected to find such peace in the Lifestream. Not for someone like him.  
The laughter dimmed. “You’re in the Lifestream, but you’re not dead. Your place is not here – not yet – but the world isn’t ready for you again, either. Sleep in peace for the time being... and then…” The voice faded out of hearing.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Approximately one year later…  
Omega was ascending. That couldn’t happen. For all that Chaos plagued his host and longed to wreak havoc, destruction of the Planet was in a whole different category. If Omega was successful, there would be no Planet left to wreak havoc upon.  
Chaos surged upwards, wings outspread. He bore no illusions – this wasn’t a battle he could win without paying the ultimate price. Well, this was unexpected. He wasn’t exactly the hero type. That was more his host’s venue. Yeah, self-sacrifice would be right up his host’s alley. Like locking himself in a coffin in an abandoned mansion for thirty odd years as some form of atonement. Chaos was still bitter about that.  
Speaking of his host – Chaos would never give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him by his name – he was still here too. They would both pay the price for this foolish act of sacrifice. But perhaps not… As much as Chaos delighted in tormenting his host – the ex-Turk known to the world and his few friends as Vincent Valentine – the thought of his host dying brought him no pleasure. Clearly, though, someone would have to die to use the ProtoMateria against Omega. His host lacked the wings to do it alone… but Chaos could. A dark part of him rebelled at the thought. If he was going down, he should take others with him. It wasn’t like he was friends with his host or anything.  
Could he even cut his host loose if he wanted to? He had never tried before because it would ultimately lead to his death – he was not equipped to live outside his host. But if he were dying anyway…? Secretly, a small, shriveled up part of him admired his host. Born of a violent, vengeful, and now all but extinct race – a race even more ancient than the Cetra – Chaos thrived on deceit and destruction. It was no wonder the humans had come to call his race demons and monsters, for that is how they must have seemed to them. But a part of him admired – just a little – the lean man he had shared so much time with. His host couldn’t hide any of his thoughts from Chaos. Unlike most humans, whom Chaos considered weak and petty, the gunman was completely authentic, never hiding behind pretenses or falsities. Even in his dealings with Chaos, whom he loathed, Valentine was straightforward and fair. So, yeah, a little, teensy part of him admired the man whose body he shared. Even if that man was a morose, self-punishing human.  
Time was running out for indecision. His host would no doubt just torture himself for another thirty years if Chaos let him live. Ah, but that had a ring to it. Especially since Chaos would not have to endure the torture with him this time. Yessss.  
Not sure if it would work, Chaos grasped the hidden cord – an ethereal string of light that bound him to his host – and severed it in one fierce motion. Dropping the part of him that was Vincent Valentine and clutching the ProtoMateria to his chest, Chaos surged upwards to meet Omega in the sky. He reveled one final time in the power of his tattered wings and the exultation of commanding his own body as he rose faster towards Omega. He thrust the ProtoMateria into Omega. Immediately, pain seared through him. His lips pulled back in agony and released a cry both guttural and shrill. He would endure this. He would defeat Omega.  
Suddenly, bursts of light erupted from Omega, falling and diminishing into faint trails. Omega was returning to the Planet. A fierce grin split Chaos’ face even as he felt himself begin to blur and dissipate around the edges. In all his existence, in all those millennia, Chaos had never felt anything quite like this. Such a strange feeling, he noted, before everything faded to white.  
“Chaos?” a voice clear as bells called to him. He wasn’t about to mistake that voice for his mother, though. He hadn’t heard his mother in millennia, but he still distinctly remembered the sound of her voice, which was somewhere between a hyena’s laugh and a chainsaw. The smell of flowers flooded his nostrils. If he could have chosen a scent for the hereafter, he would have chosen the smell of blood or, perhaps, gunpowder. But no one ever said demons got to be choosers.  
“Cha-os,” the voice persisted yet again.  
He growled in response. He might be dead, but that didn’t mean he had to be nice. The voice laughed. Laughed! At him. So, this was what the hell realms were like.  
“What name?” Chaos demanded in his guttural growl, his speech and language rusty with disuse. Laughter! Again!  
“I’m Aerith. We’ve met before. Well, sort of. Vincent is a friend of mine.”  
Ah, Aerith. The name was familiar. Chaos wasn’t really inclined to pay much attention to the names of the humans surrounding his host. It was his way of maintaining their unimportance – and it had annoyed his host, which was reason enough in itself. Aerith. Ah, yes, she was the girl that died. The flower girl that had awakened Holy. Her name had lodged in his animalistic mind because of her death and his host’s intense grief at her loss. How fitting that she would be sent here as his torturer.  
“You really gave Vincent fits, you know that?” More laughter. Please kill me now. Oh, wait, he was already dead. This really sucked.  
“You can’t stay here. Not now.” The voice sounded a little sad.  
“Finally, some good news.”  
“Someone needs you.” Clearly this chick was deranged. Or else she was confused about who she was talking to.  
“Huh?”  
“It’s time. Say ‘hi’ to Vincent for me.”  
Okaaay… a few minutes ago he would have said things couldn’t get worse. Now he wasn’t so sure. What was she talking about? Colors began to swirl around him and indistinct shadows slipped by.  
With a sudden and painful impact, Chaos found himself lying in a puddle. Raising his head slightly, he found himself in an alley. It was dark out and the sounds of a slumbering city drifted to him.  
“Last time I ever play the hero,” he grunted. Nope, sacrifice was definitely not his thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been two weeks now. Two weeks since Chaos had found himself unceremoniously dumped in some dark alley. Much of that time had been spent fantasizing about what he would do if he ever got ahold of the owner of a certain overly cheerful, sing-songy voice. Yep, that's what kept him warm at night. Figuratively, at least. In reality, there wasn't much in the way of modern conveniences in the abandoned warehouse he had claimed as his lair. No heat. No furniture. That didn't bother him overmuch, though.

Chaos had visited Seventh Heaven – the bar where some of the old AVALANCHE members lived – but he hadn't gone in. In fact, he had been careful to ensure he was neither seen nor heard. He wasn't concerned with what had happened to his old host Vincent Valentine. Not at all… maybe just a little curious.

For the first week there was no word on Valentine's whereabouts… or his survival. The gang at Seventh Heaven was clearly concerned. Perhaps Vincent's human body had not endured the fall when they parted ways. That surprised him – Vincent had always struck him as a survivor – and Chaos found himself oddly bothered by this loss. Not that he missed his host, he told himself. After all, it wasn't as if they were friends or anything. Nonetheless, he found himself hanging out in the alley behind Seventh Heaven or perched on the roof by the skylight on a basis too frequent to really call coincidence. And, if he seemed to be listening a little too closely to the conversations therein, well, that wasn't entirely coincidence either. Not that he was concerned or cared, of course. Sure, he eavesdropped closely on incoming calls from Cloud as the blond swordsman scoured the area in search of clues to Vincent's fate, but it wasn't _his_ fault he had good hearing.

Valentine might play the part of silent loner, but Chaos noted how many people came together to look for him when he disappeared. An awful lot of people for someone who claimed to have no friends. Not that _he_ was one of those concerned parties. Definitely not.

His mind traveled back to his latest visit to Seventh Heaven.

_Chaos crouched low to the surface of the roof to prevent his outline from showing along the skyline of the building. He had to work hard to be quiet enough to avoid detection by the Mako-enhanced hearing of the spikey blond._

_Cloud had just pulled up in a small moving truck and greeted the dark-haired martial artist with a peck on the cheek._

_"Where did the truck come from, Cloud?" she asked._

_"Reeve. It's on loan from the WRO. I have something you… will want to see." Cloud had become more comfortable talking in the last year and was at his most relaxed with the dark-haired beauty that had so patiently coaxed him back to himself._

_Chaos wondered if Cloud's acquisition had anything to do with Valentine. He could no longer see the couple from his vantage on the Seventh Heaven roof as they stepped into the back of the truck, but he heard the girl's gasp of pleasure._

_"It's beautiful!"_

_"Happy birthday, Tifa."_

_"You remembered my birthday!"_

_Ugh, how sappy. Chaos restrained himself from groaning aloud for fear of being overheard._

_The sandy-haired boy joined them then and the three of them managed to unload the van's bounty. Moonlight glinted off mahogany and ivory. A baby grand piano for the bar. Nothing to do with Valentine, then. Chaos remained silently watching the scene unfold as the three struggled to get the instrument maneuvered inside._

_"No word on Vincent?" inquired Tifa._

_"None, but I'll go out again in the morning and Yuffie still has her ear to the ground. I… even asked the Turks to let us know if they hear anything. Why don't you… give this a try and see how it sounds?"_

_The martial artist sat on the mahogany bench and played a melody from memory. It was sweet and somber at the same time, the notes rising and falling gently._

_Chaos left before the song was finished._

Chaos shook his head at himself. He was not some sentimental fool to get lost in such memories.

Word of Valentine finally came in the second week following Omega's defeat. The girl-woman Shelke had located him at Lucrecia's crystal cave. It figured. His ex-host probably went there to torture himself some more.

Shelke and Valentine briefly returned to Seventh Heaven, and Chaos watched the reunion from a distance. It was all tears and hugs. Disgusting, really, if you asked him, but, of course, no one did. He took some comfort in the fact that Valentine seemed as uncomfortable with it as he would have been.

Vincent told the members of AVALANCHE that Chaos and Omega had both returned to the Lifestream. Ha, that joke was on him, then. That would teach his old host to go making assumptions and not even looking for his old pal Chaos.

Still, Chaos found himself unwilling to reveal himself to Valentine or the rest of the AVALANCHE crew. They probably wouldn't be too happy to see him anyway. Not that he cared whether they rejected him or not. Chaos was above such petty considerations as the fickle acceptance of mere humans.

He had taken to wearing a heavy cowl and cloak that concealed his face and the cartilage of his headdress, as well as his folded wings. With the colder weather, a cloak didn't stand out too much. He still looked odd enough that people crossed the street to avoid walking by him, but with rumors of his death somewhat exaggerated, Chaos believed it would be enough to keep his identity secret.

So, here he was. Squatting in some cold, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the now flourishing town of Edge. The cold didn't bother him much, but even he wasn't immune to hunger. _That_ had been one of the downsides of residing within Vincent: the gunman did _not_ eat enough.

Eating posed a bit of a problem for Chaos, since he had no money. He had considered wreaking random havoc on people and taking their food and gil as he found it. That would have been pretty easy, considering his strength and the relative defenselessness of the common people of Edge. When he had been on the verge of his first attack, however, a voice in his head halted him cold.

" ** _You don't want to hurt people_** _._ "

_What?_ Why was there a voice in his head? He was used to being the voice in someone else's head. Turnabout was _not_ fair play. Strangely, the voice sounded a bit like his own, but that was preposterous since he would never have such reservations.

Chaos let the rotund banker disappear around the corner without attacking. He would do it tomorrow. Yes, that was it. He just wasn't _that_ hungry yet. And tomorrow he would probably eat the fat banker when he was done too. He wasn't picky about _what_ he ate, just that there was plenty of it.

The following day had come and gone and Chaos had watched the banker head home and let him pass unhindered yet again. He told himself it had nothing to do with that infernal voice in his head. It just wasn't worth the effort to attack humans. Plus, he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Not yet. Not until he decided what he wanted to do about his former host.

So, here he sat in a cold warehouse eating rats. Yes, rats. There was an abundance of them. They were one of the few things that had seemed to flourish in the aftermath of Meteor, amid the demolished Midgar and the emerging Edge.

On the subject of rats, Chaos recalled a shared memory from his time with Vincent a year or so back.

_Vincent, with Chaos along for the ride, was visiting Seventh Heaven. His typical perceptive nature picked up on Cloud's distress when Cloud joined him on the rooftop. The signs were subtle: a tension in the shoulders, a weight behind the eyes, a slight restlessness in the hands. Vincent didn't say anything, just waited quietly. Soon the source of Cloud's distress came pouring out in his usual halting way._

_"Vincent… why do horrible things happen… to good people… to kids?"_

_Vincent didn't have a reply for this. He ducked his head into the collar of his mantle and waited silently for Cloud to continue._

_"Before Aerith led Denzel to Tifa and me… he went through a lot of things. He told me… that after Meteorfall… when he was really starving… he thought about eating rats. People told him the rats were toxic from exposure to chemicals and pollution. Denzel… he considered eating them anyway... he thought maybe he wanted to die. He thought… maybe that was the only way out from the destruction and famine and sadness that was the aftermath of Meteorfall. I… I don't know what to say to him to help him past it all." This was quite a speech for the socially awkward and generally quiet swordsman. He clearly cared a lot for the adopted boy and was heartbroken at hearing how the boy had considered suicide._

_"Hnn."_

_Cloud let out a deep sigh, releasing harbored tension. "Thanks for listening, Vincent. Now… I think I… understand how to help. I just… need to listen." The blond was quiet for a few minutes more before turning and descending the stairs to rejoin the family._

Chaos drowned out most of Vincent's conversations – unless it was something he could taunt his host about – but this one, for some reason, stayed with him.

Chaos didn't have to worry about toxins in his food. His constitution was considerably stronger than a human's – probably stronger even than a Mako-enhanced human's. He didn't care much for the taste of rats, that was true; however, taste was not a truly important factor to him. Nevertheless, it rankled to be here, alone, eating the refuse at the bottom of the food chain while AVALANCHE sat warm and cozy in Seventh Heaven.

Chaos rose with a frustrated grunt and headed out to walk the streets yet again. This had become a familiar pattern.

The sun had set, leaving a faint glow of light along the horizon. Streetlights had not been a huge priority in the push to build Edge, but they dotted a few street corners here and there. Steam rose up from the sewers through periodic vents staggered at the edges of the street.

Chaos found himself back in the alley where he had awakened after his trip to the Lifestream. He often found himself here. Perhaps it looked to an outsider like he came here to ponder his purpose and the reason for his return to the Planet. Chaos didn't think so, though. He came here to ponder all the ways he would subjugate humanity beneath his iron fists. Yes, that was it.

A sliver of reflection caught his eye in the darkest recess of the alley. Perhaps it was something of value left behind. Unlikely, but worth checking out. Besides, there wasn't anything else to occupy his curiosity at this time.

Not a thing of value after all. It was a body. Probably some poor sap had been mugged and murdered back here. It happened in Edge, even now that civilization was taking hold and the WRO was attempting to enforce laws for peace and order.

Chaos stepped closer and toed the body over onto its back with his boot. It was too dark to make out much beyond skin as pale as the moon. And hair that, where it was not caked with grime from the alley, shone silver as the light reflected from it. Chaos shuffled through the pockets of the body. _Just in case._

The demon was startled when the man's lips parted and let out a sigh. Fumbling, he felt at the neck for a pulse. Ah, there it was. Weak, but steady. What was he thinking? What did it matter if the stiff had a pulse or not. He would be dead by morning. It wasn't Chaos' problem. Little did he care what happened to the riff-raff of humanity. He got up and turned away, back to the open street.

" ** _You can't leave him_** _._ " Stupid Inner Voice. Meddling, ignorant Inner Voice.

Chaos turned and looked at the body again. It looked small in the dim light – fragile, even. Chaos' wings tightened in agitation beneath his cloak. With a disgruntled shrug, he knelt and gathered the boy into his arms before heading back to the warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, Chaos glanced around. The furnishings were sparse indeed: concrete flooring, his sleeping mat, empty shipping crates, an old push broom, a bucket of water. No real place to lay a body – except his own mat. His eyes returned to his mat and blanket – obtained by less than honest means, but still _his._ Growling his irritation, he deposited the still-comatose teen on his mat.

Briefly, the eyelids slid open, revealing cyan eyes that refused to focus properly.

"Brother?" the dazed sounding figure asked. The eyes slid shut again without waiting for a reply.

" **Hardly** ," Chaos grunted. " **Besides, I'll probably eat you in the morning**."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /N: Welcome to Chapter 2! Thanks for reading. If you haven't read On the Way to a Smile: Case of Denzel, the subject of eating rats comes directly from that. There is also a OVA that you can watch of the Case of Denzel.
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: Chaos & Kadaj is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment purposes and without intent to profit. All due credit for Final Fantasy VII belongs to its creators and Square Enix.
> 
> Remember, reviews make the Vendetta smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kadaj awoke with a headache – a phenomenon he couldn't recall ever having experienced before. A quick mental inventory did not reveal any additional injuries. Opening his eyes, he took in his surroundings. He was lying on a thin mat in what appeared to be a warehouse. Water dripped somewhere out of his view, and he wrinkled his nose at the slightly stale smell.

Groaning, Kadaj sat up and tried to remember how he had come to be here. No matter, the important thing was getting back to the Reunion. If he could just accomplish that, all else would reveal itself. Mother had promised.

Movement from the other side of the warehouse caught his attention, and he was instantly on guard. He had garnered many enemies in his few short weeks alive on the Planet. The figure that approached could only be described as a tilted his head and studied the creature from behind the silver curtain of his hair. The sight before him was jarring to say the least: an ashen and scarred complexion, red headdress, folded bat-like wings, a metallic clawed appendage, and faintly glowing yellow eyes. Not to mention a visage that did not betoken welcome. Well, he had encountered monsters before – he and his brothers had cleared plenty of them out of their base in the Forgotten City.

Kadaj instinctively reached within himself for the coil of power – Mother's legacy to him – but where once there was a boundless well of purpose and power, he now found… nothing. An empty abyss. No call from Mother, no niggling sense of Sephiroth on the fringes, no power tingling at his fingertips. Far more frightening than the monster before him was this sudden emptiness.

"Where's Mother?" The question was as much to himself as to the monster before him. His voice was shrill and high. He hated that tendency of his voice when he got emotional. He wasn't a child, even if he had emerged from the black ooze of contaminated Lifestream just a few weeks ago.

"Who?" the monster responded, its voice resembling two boulders grinding together. It took a couple steps closer.

Kadaj took further assessment within himself. Still nothing. Mother was silent and his stock of Materia, which he kept embedded under his skin for easy access, was gone. No summons. No shadow-creepers at his bidding. No ability to shift his form. Nothing.

No matter. Magic may have been one of his strong points, but he was plenty powerful enough to eliminate a monster without the use of magic. Curling his fist in the blanket beneath him, he jumped up and away, at the same time flinging the blanket into the face of the beastly creature. In the moment bought by tossing the blanket, he latched onto a wooden push broom left abandoned nearby. He swiftly jabbed the monster in the nose just as it snatched the blanket away from its face. Repositioning his hands on the makeshift staff, Kadaj brought it around for a follow-up swing. —Only to find it snatched from his hands and snapped into pieces by a metallic appendage.

Cold fingers wrapped around his throat as he was slammed back down onto the mat. More concerning than his inability to catch his breath or the pain that shot through his likely bruised ribs was the icy stare with which he was examined. Not good. Not good at all.

"Listen, whelp." Yellow was supposed to be a warm color, but as Kadaj stared up into the monster's eyes, their yellow seemed the coldest color he had ever experienced. A chill ran up his back. "You are an inconvenience to me. I would be just as happy with you dead. But if you wanted to die so badly, then you should have done it back in that alley instead of wasting my time dragging you here so you could attack me. I don't really want to clean your blood splatters off the walls of my lair. And good lairs are hard to come by in Edge, so I don't fancy moving just now." The grinding voice raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Now the winged creature appeared to be studying him closer, as if trying to put pieces of a puzzle together. There was no reason he should be familiar to a monster – at least not a living one – but a look of recognition was sinking into its scarred face.

"Remnant." The monster strung the word out, seemingly pleased with itself.

"Don't call me that!" His voice was high and shrill again. Cloud had mocked him with that title before, saying a mere "remnant" wouldn't know Mother's plans. If it hadn't been for the restraining hand at his throat, he would have lunged at the monster again.

"Okay, then… Larva." The voice mocked him with a dark chuckle, apparently taking great pleasure in riling him.

"Don't call me that!" He was shrieking now, completely losing control. He tried to struggle free to no avail. His impressive strength was no match against the large monster's might.

Suddenly, the hideous being shoved away, releasing him. "We'll talk later." And with that he strode away, leaving the building. Kadaj sat up and took a few steadying breaths. He needed to get his bearings. How did he get here? Where was here? What was going on? How did the monster happen to recognize him? And where was Mother?

The last things he could remember were falling into Cloud's arms and then the incredibly tender female voice bidding him to sleep. That didn't make sense – Cloud was his enemy. What had happened before? Images and sensations came surging back: battling Cloud, hanging from the edge of a ruined building, Cloud standing above him, pulling Mother's essence to himself, absorbing her. Reunion. Lost. Lost in Sephiroth's emergence and supremacy. Mother had chosen her precious Sephiroth over him. Pushed into the background, powerless and useless like a worn out gunblade that had been replaced and relegated to the closet. No. No, it could not be! Mother would not abandon him.

But she had. He knew it with a cold, hard certainty in his core.

Then: Sephiroth in control, Cloud engaging Sephiroth with the fierce declaration, "I pity you. You just don't get it at all. There's not a thing I don't cherish!" And then: Sephiroth defeated. Sephiroth abandoning him, Mother too. Kadaj clutched at his heart. No! But the emptiness remained. They were gone. He had never meant anything to them but a means to an end.

Desperate to escape these thoughts and the empty sensation inside, Kadaj stood and stumbled to the door. It was still dark outside. He was not familiar with this portion of Edge, so he wandered blindly. Most stores were closed at this time of night, and the streets were dark and empty, save for the occasional streetlight.

Kadaj's thoughts turned to his brothers: Loz and Yazoo. If he was somehow brought back from the Lifestream, might they not also be back? In the absence of Mother – no, the betrayal of Mother – he needed someone. Some connection to bind him here and fill the aching hole that had opened up inside of him. Mother, she was a disappointment. He would call her "Mother" no more. She was Jenova – a deceptive calamity from the skies, precisely as others had proclaimed her. He had not believed it at the time. He had been so sure. Her call to him had been as solid as an anchor and the driving wind in his sails. Every action had been so full of purpose and so clear before him. Now… now, all he had was emptiness and doubt.

Loz and Yazoo. He would find them. That would be his purpose. He would find them. Someone had to be there to tell them not to cry.

A sign caught his notice. Lit up and blinking gaudily in the night, it proclaimed the store "open." Johnny's Heaven. Ready for a distraction, Kadaj turned and entered. Noticing a bit of pain as he swung the door open, he glanced down at his hands. Great. During his confrontation with the monster, the stupid broom handle had given him slivers, despite his gloves.

The tavern was clean and empty but for one patron at a table towards the back and a tender at the bar. The young bartender sported a mop of red hair and an expression eager as a puppy's. "Welcome to Johnny's, what'll it be?"

Kadaj hadn't really thought through his decision to enter. It had been a spur of the moment impulse. He didn't have any gil on him, even if he had felt a particular desire to remain in the company of what, to all appearances, would be a chatty host. Although… this might have been a good opportunity to pump someone for information if he had possessed the gil for it. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically at the host.

"Looks like I forgot my wallet. Sorry." With a slightly exaggerated bow, he turned to go, ignoring the disappointed look on the tender's face.

"Wait. If you're down on your luck – or if you forgot your wallet – I have some stock that's about out of date. Stay and you can have something from that for no charge."

Looking back, Kadaj encountered puppy-dog eyes. He could almost imagine a tail wagging behind the counter as well. He nodded his assent.

"I'm Johnny, by the way. We have quite a bit of stock that gets outdated. Lots of people would rather go to Seventh Heaven. They have better atmosphere. Not to mention Tifa." Johnny said this name with a dreamy sigh as he set a tray with several bottles on the counter. "Pick your poison."

Kadaj perused the options. He didn't have much – actually any – experience with drinking alcohol. He had always been preoccupied with the mission, with Reunion. But that was over now. Nonetheless, he wasn't particularly interested in alcohol and he had a new mission now: find Loz and Yazoo.

Kadaj pointed at a bottle of red liquid. He might as well take something and use this opportunity to garner as much information as possible.

"Cranberry juice? All these options here and you want straight cranberry juice at two o'clock in the morning?"

Kadaj shrugged off the tender's response. If the drink wasn't any good, he could just pretend to sip at it. He took the proffered glass and sat at the counter. He sipped it gingerly. It puckered in his mouth. The bartender was watching him closely. He swallowed and repressed the urge to smack his lips. It was strange. Not bad, just odd. It kind of awakened the senses. He took another sip. When his glass was empty, Johnny refilled it.

"So, you new around here?" the over-friendly redhead queried.

"I've been around a few weeks." Time to turn this conversation away from himself and get some answers. "I heard there were some disturbances here in Edge recently." That should get the tender gossiping on about the kidnapping of the children, Bahamut, and the other events he and his brothers had brought about.

"Sure. There was that whole Deepground incident." At Kadaj's puzzled look, the keeper continued, "Yeah, that was really something. Those Tsviets were some scary actors. Good thing the WRO cleaned up that mess before it got out of hand." Tsviets? Kadaj had never heard the term. It must be a term the public had adopted for the three brothers.

"I heard there was a Bahamut." That should get the man talking more.

"Nah, there hasn't been one of those in over a year. That was when those silver-haired freaks were wreaking havoc all over the city. That was a mess too." Over a year? How long had he been in the Lifesteam? His mind reeling, Kadaj almost missed the speculative look Johnny was giving his hair. His silver hair. It was probably time to wrap up this conversation.

At the back of the establishment, the only other customer silently got up and exited the bar.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Wow, some pretty crazy events. Hey, look, I should be going."

"Drop by again sometime. If you have some gil, that's great, but even if you don't… well, it gets lonely here sometimes and I really like having someone to talk to. And I like you. You're good to talk to." Whatever suspicions the redhead had been entertaining a moment ago, he appeared to have set them aside.

"Sure. Yeah. Um, take care." Kadaj turned and left the establishment. He considered all the places he might go. He didn't know Midgar well, having only spent a few days there on his previous visit. He certainly didn't have any friends here. In the end, he found his steps taking him back to a certain warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johnny appears in the original game - they meet him on the train and again in front of the Honeybee Inn. He later shows up in On the Way to a Smile in both Denzel and Tifa's stories. According to OTWTAS, he had a crush on Tifa and is inspired to open his own cafe on account of her. He tends to inadvertently send business her way by speaking so highly of her. In Denzel's story and the OVA he owns the open-air cafe where Denzel meets with Reeve. Apparently, decided to camp out in this story too, although to fit the needs of this story, Johnny's Heaven is depicted as a tavern rather than a café. Remember, slight AU.
> 
> Huge thank you goes out to ScribeOfRhapsody for beta-reading. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies. If I suddenly inherit the rights to FFVII or Square Enix, I will be sure to post that news here first. But don't hold your breath, I would hate to be responsible for your asphyxiation.
> 
> ~ Vendetta ~


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The sky was beginning to glow along the horizon when Chaos turned back towards the warehouse. It had taken him the rest of the night to process the shock of the remnant's appearance in his life.

Rage had welled up inside of him when the youth had attacked. How dare the whelp attack him when he had just rescued him? It had taken an immense effort to reign in his desire to annihilate the boy as he tamped his anger back under control. He wasn't sure why he bothered – the world would get along just fine with one less punk kid.

Then, as he held the teen down, recognition had crept in. It was slow at first – the last person he expected to show up under his roof was one of Sephiroth's remnants. After all, they were supposed to have died over a year ago.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with this new development. The helpless stray puppy he had dragged home suddenly turned out to be a thrall of Jenova – a harbinger of the destruction of the Planet. Not only a madman, but a powerful one. This really was more of Vincent's purview. Why did the whelp have to end up on his doorstep? Part of him thought maybe he should make Valentine aware of the remnant's return, but that would mean revealing himself to the ex-Turk as well, and he wasn't sure he wanted that. He had already saved the Planet once – why did this have to happen to him?

Although… he had enjoyed taunting the boy. The stray rose to the bait much more readily than Vincent ever had. It would almost be worthwhile to keep him around just for that purpose… But, no, the remnant would be gone by the time he got back to the warehouse – of that he was almost certain. It was better that way. He wouldn't have to make the decision – it would simply be out of his hands. AVALANCHE would probably find out about the silver-haired whelp in short order anyway. Yes, at least his problem was resolved.

Out of nowhere, something attacked. Chaos cursed himself for becoming distracted to the point of being so easily ambushed. He glimpsed a flash of shiny purple carapace as he attempted to put some space between himself and the large creature. The back of his mind registered the monster as a grashtrike, while the rest of him prepared to battle it.

The ugly crustacean monster attempted to ensnare Chaos with silk. Preoccupied with his own thoughts and caught unaware, Chaos found his left arm entirely entangled. With the sticky webbing reducing his mobility, he would have a hard time launching a counterattack and his evasive speed was severely compromised. It certainly didn't help that he had neither weapons nor Materia. He could thank Aerith for sending him back without any such tools at his disposal. Of course, he hadn't exactly made the effort to acquire any in the past two weeks either. Oops. Hopefully, that oversight wasn't about to cost him.

Luckily, the grashtrike appeared to be alone. He might have been in trouble otherwise. Grashtriken were pretty easy to kill with physical force alone, and he had that in abundance even when limited to the use of one arm. Being careful to avoid the crustacean's claws and stinger, Chaos let loose a series of blows that dazed the monster. His fighting style was blunt and reflexive; he had no need for frills or flare. Avoiding a poorly aimed assault by its stinger, he struck again, bringing the monster down to the ground. Chaos didn't stop until the creature was pulverized. He hadn't realized he had been sitting on so much rage. Better not to dwell overmuch on the source of that rage, for it had served him well today and that was all that mattered.

Chaos took a moment to consider the dead creature. A few monsters still lingered in Edge, despite the WRO's concerted effort to eradicate them within the city limits. The remains of Midgar and the wastelands were still heavily infested, but the monster population in Edge was pretty well contained, despite all the horrors released from that mad scientist Hojo's lab. Chaos shuddered at the thought. If ever there was a monster, it was Hojo.

As the grashtrike began to dissipate back into the Lifestream, Chaos moved in to retrieve the Materia it had left behind. Almost all of the monsters Hojo had experimented on had high concentrations of Mako, courtesy of the mad scientist's fixation on Mako treatments. Concentrated Mako could not be reabsorbed into the Lifestream upon their death, which resulted in Materia being left behind – probably the one useful feature of Hojo's sadistic machinations.

The spider-web Materia could prove useful to him in slowing down future enemies. He bent to retrieve the smallish ball of crystalline-like substance. Searing pain engulfed his hand, causing him to drop the offending object. Chaos stared at his hand where it had clasped the Materia. What in the bloody Lifestream just happened? Chaos had never heard of Materia that burned its handler, and certainly the Materia left behind by a simple grashtrike should not burn? There wasn't even a source of water nearby to dunk his now smarting and itching hand into. Leaving the Materia where it lay, he headed back to his lair posthaste.

Chaos strode into the warehouse intent on dousing his hand, getting something to eat, and then catching some sleep. He was not at all prepared to find the place still occupied.

The silver-haired youth stopped what he was doing – which appeared to be picking at one of his own hands – and turned to him with an exaggerated bow. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Apparently the boy had used the time alone to recover his wits. He seemed older now than the frightened teen that had awoken on Chaos' mat. The flippant remnant gazed up at him with his head tilted and his face partially concealed by his hair. A territorial urge rose up in Chaos. His abode? First the kid attacked him and now he wanted to lay claim to his lair?

"Why are you still here?"

"But, sir, you said we'd talk."

Eating the whelp was beginning to sound like a good idea again.

"I'm sure two monsters can find some diversion in this town."

"Speak for yourself, whelp." Never taking his eyes of the remnant, Chaos dipped his hands into the container of water he kept in his lair and scrubbed at them. Ah, that was a little better. He squatted and leaned back against a wall. Perhaps if he ignored the stray it would go away. It wasn't like he had fed it or anything. But then, he was curious… just a little bit.

"Where did you come from, Remnant? You're supposed to be dead."

"Don't call me that!"

Oh, yes, it surely was fun to get under the stray's skin.

"How do you know about me, anyway?" the boy continued in a more normal tone.

"Ah, I'm hurt you don't recognize me. We fought in the Forgotten City. Of course, you might not have noticed me if you thought you were just fighting my host – Vincent Valentine."

The boy sucked in his breath with recognition. Oh, the whelp was much more satisfying than Vincent. Valentine's morose nature and time as a Turk made him exceptionally good at covering his feelings. Not so with this boy.

"I've fought a lot of monsters. You can't expect me to remember all of them."

Nice attempt at recovery, boy; too bad you read like an open book. And it would take something a little stronger than the word monster to get under Chaos's skin.

"I'll ask again. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not entirely sure why I'm here, okay? I guess I wasn't wanted in the Lifestream." The boy sounded, suddenly, vulnerable. He was trying to hide it, but it was clear as day to the ancient being. "I just need to find my brothers…"

Chaos detected honesty in the boy's response. Surprising. His curiosity was thoroughly aroused now. "Brothers?"

"Loz and Yazoo. They won't know what to do without me around, the crybabies." The boy was using his tone of superiority to cover genuine sadness and concern.

"What about… Sephiroth? What about… Mother?"

"I don't want to talk about them!" High, shrill voice. Ooh, the boy really was touchy.

"So, you just want to find the other remnants? No plans to end the world?" How interesting to chat about ending the world like it was a perfectly normal topic of conversation. Strangely – in light of the events over the last few years – it seemed exactly that.

"Yes, I will find them. And you will help me, monster." 

Ah, look who was being all authoritarian. It should have made him mad, but instead he found it… amusing? Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised – next to Valentine, even a chocobo would seem amusing. "I will do whatever I choose, whelp." It wouldn't do to let the stray get ideas or take on airs. He certainly wasn't responsible for keeping the remnant out of trouble. He should probably just eat the stray, or at least kick him out. "But… you can stay here for now."Where did that come from?"And… if it amuses me, I might get involved, but I wouldn't hold your breath… Meanwhile, you'd better earn your keep." Yeah, maybe the kid could get a job and bring home some gil. Having better grub around might actually make up for having to tolerate his presence. Sure, that was why he was allowing the whelp to stay.

The boy regarded him from behind his silver hair, but did not dissent.

"One more thing: your hair. It stands out too much. You'll have to get some hair dye." It wouldn't do to attract too much attention. Word of silver hair was sure to garner attention from AVALANCHE. Chaos wasn't sure where this strange new alliance was headed, but he definitely wasn't ready to involve AVALANCHE. "You'll make a great brunette. Or maybe we should go with purple?" That was a fun picture.

"No. Absolutely not! I am not changing my hair."

Whatever. "It's your funeral." Chaos took his blanket from where it had fallen on the floor during their earlier confrontation and tossed it on his mat. He reclined back and closed his eyes, effectively dismissing the remnant. It was a power play and he knew it, but one had to find their pleasure somewhere.

The boy paced from one side of the warehouse to the other. And back again. And…

"Knock that off," Chaos growled.

The pacing stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to everyone who read and/or left kudos. 
> 
> Vendetta


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kadaj picked the last of the slivers from his palm. He regarded it critically. How could such a tiny piece of wood cause so much discomfort? Standing, Kadaj started pacing in the empty warehouse. Chaos had gone out again, leaving him to his own thoughts. Loz and Yazoo – stupid names, but it wasn't like they had doting parents to name them – occupied his mind. He was at a loss on where to begin his search. He couldn't just hang up signs "Missing – 2 Remnants of Sephiroth – Please contact your local monster lair with info."

Somehow, he needed access to information networks. Shinra and the World Regenesis Organization functioned as the two largest information collecting agencies in Edge, and neither would be receptive to helping him. Rufus Shinra was not trustworthy. Vividly, Kadaj recalled his deceitful claims that Mother—Jenova had been lost. All the while the liar had kept her concealed on his person. He would never go to Rufus Shinra for help. As for the WRO, the remnants had done some sizeable damage to their reconstruction efforts a year ago. Either organization would probably rather see the silver-haired trio dead than reunited.

Chaos – a fitting name for the monster – wasn't much help. It seemed he just wanted to smirk at Kadaj's efforts. They hadn't talked much since Chaos' return the previous morning – other than for the monster to insist he get a job to help support them. Couldn't the creature see he already had a mission? Nothing was going to get in the way of finding his brothers.

There was another option. Another possible source of information: Cloud. He wouldn't have the intel that Shinra and the WRO would, of course, but Cloud had connections which would no doubt grant him greater access than the average civilian.

But where did he stand with Cloud? How did he even feel about the man? It was Cloud who had fought and killed him. Yet, it was also Cloud who had held him tenderly as he drifted into the Lifestream. That was more than M—Jenova had ever done for him. He had called Cloud a brother, but the only connection they had was through Jenova and Sephiroth. If he no longer claimed Jenova as his mother, did that mean his connection to Cloud was severed as well?

How might Cloud look upon him now? His pacing slowed to a stop. What if he had imagined the look on Cloud's face? What if Cloud hated him still? What if Cloud wanted him dead?

The door slid open with a grating sound behind him. Kadaj turned with a barb on his lips for the creature that had somehow become his roommate, but was jolted to alertness by the sight of not one monster but two men entering the warehouse.

The lanky red-headed one scraped his weapon – an electromagnetic rod – noisily along the corrugated steel of the warehouse wall as he walked. His dark-skinned partner walked with an upright posture and tidy appearance that clashed with the redhead's slouchy unkempt look.

"Well, well… guess the director was right. We do have a pest problem. Time for extermination…" The redhead glanced at his bald partner, who merely nodded, as they both approached.

Kadaj recognized these two. Shinra's lapdogs and Rufus' Turks. Skilled assassins, devoted to the blond business mogul. Last he had seen them was on the highway as he and Cloud had raced past them on motorcycles. He was a little surprised to see them alive. If he had given them a second thought, he would have assumed they had died in the explosion they'd set off while attempting to kill Loz and Yazoo.

"Why aren't you dead? I thought you had clocked out for good," Kadaj prodded the suited men as he subtly took a more defensive stance.

"We're Turks, yo. We come with nine lives, don't ya know? The real question is why aren't you dead?"

Kadaj ignored the question; he would dictate the direction of this conversation, anything else would leave an opening, a weakness which he could not afford. "How did you find me?"

"We're the Turks, yo. We've got our sources." The redhead twirled his weapon. Kadaj thought back over the last two days. He didn't think the monster would have reported him to the Turks – it didn't fit his style. He hadn't really seen anyone else. Just the garrulous barkeeper and… ah. The patron at the back of the bar that had left so hurriedly.

"So, you've come to play?" Kadaj purred at the Turks. Never show weakness. He tilted his head and didn't budge. He had defeated these two before with ease and left them helpless on the floor, but that was while he still had his Materia and Souba. How he longed for Souba now. The double-bladed katana fit his hands like an extension of his own body. And Materia… he felt almost naked without it. With Materia he could have dissipated into a black fog or summoned shadow-creepers to take down these Shinra dogs. Now he was unarmed and outnumbered. Not defenseless, entirely, but at a serious disadvantage.

The Turks edged closer, clearly leery of him and unsure what abilities he might call upon. The redheaded one – ever the more impulsive of the two – ran at him suddenly. Ducking to avoid the electrified rod, Kadaj scrambled up on a stack of empty wooden shipping crates. Stacked four high, they brought him near the ceiling and over the heads of his attackers.

The lanky Turk moved to follow him up the pile; Kadaj should have remembered that one had some radical climbing skills. Luck seemed to favor him today, though, as he watched the top crate slide off the stack under the Turk's grasp, hurtling the redhead to the concrete floor where two more crates promptly bounced off his head.

The dark Turk adjusted his sunglasses and stepped forward. Kicking the bottom row of crates, he made the entire pile shudder. Another kick and the first line of crates tumbled down, several hitting the redhead where he lay on the ground. Kadaj inched to the back row of crates and used his feet to push the crate in front of him down onto the dark-skinned Turk. The Turk deflected the crate easily with his arm and gave the bottom layer of crates another solid kick.

"Not very hospitable, is he?" the dark Turk remarked to his comrade.

"What'dya expect when his mother is an alien freak?" replied the other from his position still on the warehouse floor.

Heat rose uncomfortably up his neck and burned his cheeks. All attempts to maintain his cool, detached demeanor fled. This made the encounter personal. How dare they bring his M—Jenova, or whatever, into it?

Luck may not be with the redhead, but it wasn't with Kadaj either, as he felt the crates below him give way with the Turk's next kick. Reaching up, he seized the iron piping that ran along the warehouse ceiling. Suspended, he could either kick at his opponents or swing to safety.

Or not.

The pipe gave way under his weight. Water shot out of the slender broken pipe and he hung by one end of it until the other end gave way as well. He tumbled to the concrete floor, not far from the redhead.

Gripping the pipe that had broken off in his hands, Kadaj scrambled to his feet to confront the larger Turk. At least he had a weapon now. That made all the difference. He whirled and, using alternating kicks and attacks with his improvised rod, he forced the big Turk back. Lunge. Block. Feint. Strike. Block. Fighting came naturally to him and – fueled by a seething anger – he felt invincible.

Finally, Kadaj was able to use his pipe in a powerful strike to the knees that brought the large Turk down. Following up quickly, Kadaj laid the end of the rod at the Turk's throat just above where the collarbones met. His hands thrummed with each beat of his pulse. He was alive, and he was angry.

Staring down at the Turk, he caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the man's dark sunglasses. Flicking the rod upwards, he flung the sunglasses from the Turk's face and then smashed them under his boot.

"Get out. Get out, both of you!" The words tore at the back of his throat, which was raw with anger. "Get out, now!" His voice was high and thin again.

The dark-skinned man got up and helped his partner to his feet. He silently pulled out another set of sunglasses and placed them on his face. The smaller Turk turned as they reached the warehouse door. "This ain't over, ya know?" Then, they were gone.

Water continued to shoot down from the broken pipe above. Kadaj was soaked. The warehouse floor was beginning to be covered in water. Chaos' mat was drenched and there would soon be standing water in the warehouse. Kadaj let out his breath and raked his limp, wet hair back from his face.

The warehouse door slid open. Kadaj turned, intending to show the Turks no mercy this time.

Chaos stood in the open doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have joined Chaos and Kadaj for Chapter 5. I hope you enjoyed the Turks' visit.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chaos figured he deserved some credit for not killing the whelp. Where was that stupid Inner Voice when there was credit to give? Nowhere. Well, he certainly deserved a medal for self-restraint this time. Not that he ever got the credit he deserved. After all, where was his medal for saving the Planet from Omega? Exactly. The one thing that made it remotely worthwhile was the look on the wet puppy's face when he walked in. Priceless.

He was not pleased to hear it had been the Turks that had invaded his lair. Typical. The organization truly had slipped since Valentine's day – these current Turks made a mess of everything they touched. They had better not show their faces around him – not for a long time –or they would pay for invading his territory.

More so, they would pay for attacking his stray. Wait… when had that happened? When had the stray become his? He looked at the whelp. Inconvenient. That's what he was. Barely housetrained. Cramping his style. He should probably break his neck for flooding the lair. But no one else had a right to his neck – certainly not those lousy Turks.

Cleanup of the drenched warehouse was a chore. Chaos had tried bending the pipe to cut off the flow of water, but that had only increased the pressure. In the end, it was the kid – Kadaj, but Chaos wasn't going to give him the acknowledgement of actually using his name – who had found the shut-off valve for the water and stopped the deluge. But not before everything in the warehouse was soaked – including both of them. Not amusing.

Chaos thought back to their conversation afterwards:

"I need a weapon." The whelp was staring at him from behind his still damp hair.

"Hnn…" See? He could give Valentine a run for his money on silent and brooding. It had not been a good day so far. Scratch that – it hadn't been a good week. Truthfully, it hadn't been a good millennium.

"If they come back, I need to be able to defend myself." 

The whelp did have a point. It was time for both of them to acquire weaponry. The grashtrike and the Turks had made that abundantly clear.

"We don't have any gil." 

"Fine! I get it, okay? I'll get a job… or I'll find some way to get the gil." 

Good. The whelp was coming around and seeing things his way. Maybe once he was bringing home some gil they could get out of this dump of a warehouse and into someplace better.

"No kidnapping." The stunt the remnants had pulled at the Forgotten City couldn't happen again. He wasn't about to listen to the Inner Voice's rantings if he supported the boy in kidnapping – not for all the gil on the Planet.

"Just what do you suggest? Do I look like a porter to you? The only thing I really know is fighting and I don't even have a sword." The stray paused briefly. "What I wouldn't give to have Souba back." The boy said the name like someone in love.

"What's that?"

"Souba… my perfect blade. Lost when I went to the Lifestream. Who knows where it ended up." The boy's arms and head drooped in exaggerated frustration.

"Hmm… a double-bladed katana?" A suspicion was forming in Chaos' mind.

"Yes!" He had the whelp's full attention now. "You've seen it? Where?" The boy was getting that imperious tone again, but he decided to let it slide. This time, anyway.

"Seventh Heaven. There are three weapons mounted on a back wall: a double-bladed katana, a gun, and some other contraption."

"Velvet Nightmare and the Dual Hound," the boy spoke reverently. "My brothers' weapons."

"Hnn…"

"We have to get them."

"What?" Where did the "we" come from and how was invading AVALANCHE'S den a good idea?

"We have to take back what is mine. And my brothers will need their weapons, as well." The whelp spoke with all the conviction of a preacher, but there was no way Chaos was helping with such a fool's errand.

Chaos looked at the boy again as they waited for the lights at the popular bar to finally go out. There weren't many things beyond his ability to understand, but how the whelp convinced him to come along on this escapade was surely one of them.

 

A few hours from dawn, the lights at the bar finally went out. Kadaj – with Chaos lounging at his side – waited impatiently for another hour before making his move. Cloud was out of town overnight on a delivery, so they wouldn't need to worry about his enhanced hearing. It would be just Tifa and the two kids. Nevertheless, Kadaj was as silent as possible while he jimmied the lock. Maybe he should take up burglary. The monster was still insisting he get a job. But no, sneaking in the dark wasn't his style. This was just one mission, and it was to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Inside the bar was quite dark. Kadaj moved like shavings to a magnet towards the back wall where three weapons hung in the gloom. He reached out and touched Velvet Nightmare – Yazoo's gun. Beautiful, cunning Yazoo with his shoulder-length hair. Next, as if by its own volition, his hand strayed to the Dual Hound. Loz's weapon of choice. Childlike Loz, always crying. How he missed them – it was an ache which nearly robbed him of his breath.

Kadaj turned his attention to the double-bladed katana displayed above his brother's weapons. Souba – a balm for his tortured soul. He reached up and gently, reverently lifted the blade down. He cradled it to his cheek, careful to keep the cool blades flat against his skin. He had never had a home, but he imagined if he did it would feel a little like holding this blade again.

He set his sword on the bar and lifted down the additional weapons. Velvet Nightmare was damaged. Badly. He would have to have that repaired before Yazoo saw it. It wouldn't do to return the gun in this condition. He tucked the damaged weapon inside his jacket. Lifting Dual Hound down, he secured the stun-weapon as well. Meanwhile, Chaos stood silent beside him.

What did it mean that the three weapons were displayed like this? Showcased, like trophies of war. Anger flared at the thought. He would avenge this. For his brothers. His vendetta. He again picked up Souba and turned to Chaos. They had retrieved the weapons and not been detected. Now they just needed to make it look like a common burglary in order to not arouse suspicion. So far, so good.

"Chaos." The velvety masculine voice came from a darkened, supposedly empty, corner of the bar.

Kadaj nearly dropped Souba at the unexpected sound. He turned abruptly, peering into the dimness where light glinted off a golden gauntlet.

 

"Chaos." A voice like gunsmoke and silk. A voice Chaos would recognize anywhere. He turned to face the ultra-quiet gunman. Only this man could have sat there the entire time, unnoticed.

"Vin-cent." Chaos turned the two syllables into a purr. Behind him, the whelp began to advance, double-blades gleaming slightly in Chaos' peripheral vision. Chaos stopped him with an outstretched wing. The hot-tempered teen would just have to cool his heels. This was his… fight? This was his… whatever it was.

"And here I didn't think you knew my name." What would have been a sarcastic remark on anyone else's lips was a flat statement from Vincent.

" 'Ex-host' just doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely. Besides, I have myself a new… toy." He tilted his head towards the boy, who made a rather inarticulate noise at the label.

The former host struck a match and lit an oil lamp on the table beside him. Illuminated in its glow was the deadly three-barreled gun resting handily in his lap. Valentine, the ex-Turk. Valentine, the master marksman. The bar suddenly seemed far smaller than it had before, and tension hung in the silence between them.

Chaos wasn't sure if he could die again, but he didn't really want to experiment to find out. Plus, he was certain – following his encounter with grashtrike Materia – that he could feel pain. He would just as soon not get shot full of holes, thank you very much.

"There were rumors one of Sephiroth's remnants was back in town. I had no idea he was keeping such company, though."

"Surprised?"

"Hnn… What are you up to, Chaos?" The flickering lamp illuminated the red hues of the ex-Turk's signature mantle.

"I'll let you know… sometime." He found himself studying the former Turk. It was… weird, disconcerting, even – seeing Valentine this way, from the outside for a change. For over thirty years he had shared space in the same mind and body with this man and he found himself looking for something. Longing for… something…

Nah… he was probably just hungry.

The ex-Turk turned his gaze to the boy. "Does Cloud know you're around?"

"Why, I was just leaving my calling card."

The whelp really had a knack for cheek. Chaos might come to like him after all.

"Hnn… You should speak with him. He's going to find out sooner or later."

"What do you suggest?" The kid was still behind Chaos, but Chaos had furled his wing again so the two could talk more directly.

"I'll talk with Cloud in the morning when he gets back. Come by the bar in the afternoon."

"And what then?"

"Hnn… I can't make any promises. That is up to you and Cloud."

"So, you're letting us go? Just like that?" Chaos was not sure what he expected of his old host. Something.

"Yes."

"I'm taking Souba. And the others." Defiant little whelp.

"They are rightfully yours, Kadaj. Make sure you bear them with honor and they will remain so." Valentine shifted silently in his seat. "Tomorrow afternoon, then. We'll be expecting you."

With a sweeping movement, the silver-haired remnant turned towards the door. Chaos hesitated.

"The others… are they… still with you?" It was a question he had pondered on many an occasion while he had loitered in the shadows, watching the comings and goings at Seventh Heaven. Not that he cared. Not really.

He wasn't sure if Valentine would know whom he meant, but the gunman nodded almost imperceptibly behind his high collar. "They are mostly quiet – except sometimes for Galian – but they are here."

"Hnn…" Chaos followed Kadaj out the door into the darkened street.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chaos was already perched at the skylight when Kadaj arrived, even though he himself was early. It made him wonder just how much time the winged being spent at Seventh Heaven. The monster silently acknowledged him as Kadaj took a position next to him. Below them, Cloud was speaking to the habitually still Vincent, who stood with his arms crossed at the back of the bar.

Kadaj sighed. He had come directly to the bar from Johnny's Heaven – an encounter that had not gone as well as he had hoped. In appreciation for Chaos' aid in regaining Souba, he had decided to apply for a job at the redhead's bar. Right now, the redhead was the closest person he had to a friend other than Chaos, and that wasn't saying much. It had started off well enough:

"Hey, Cranberry Man!" the redhead greeted him enthusiastically as he entered the bar, causing the few patrons occupying the place to turn and look.

"Perhaps you could call me something else?" Kadaj let his distaste for the nickname show on his face.

"Like what?" 

Johnny's question caught him off-guard. He supposed now that his return was out to the Turks and AVALANCHE both, there wasn't any huge reason to keep his name a secret from the friendly barkeeper. "Kadaj."

"Good enough. What can I get for you? More cranberry juice?" His smile was rather infectious and Kadaj found himself smiling tentatively back.

"Sure. But… I'm also here to inquire about a… job." He brought his voice down almost to a whisper. Why did he feel so awkward asking that? It wasn't like having a job was a shameful thing, and it wasn't like he was asking for charity, but he definitely felt embarrassed. To cover his emotions, he sipped the drink the bar-keeper deposited before him.

"Well, we aren't all that busy. But what can you do? Are you any good at mixing drinks?" The bartender swung his eyes towards the rows upon rows of bottles behind the bar.

"I could… learn?" That response earned him a dubious look from the bartender. This was humiliating. He didn't owe Chaos this. He wasn't sure he owed the monster anything, but certainly not this. He turned to go.

"Wait… you could sweep and mop the floors. Anyone can do that. I can't pay much, but it would be something."

Two hours later – and a fair amount sweatier – Kadaj had more than earned his first honest paycheck. He was pretty sure that kidnapping was preferable. Janitorial positions were officially off his list of prospective careers, and he wasn't going to continue working at the bar. There had to be something else.

An outburst from Cloud brought Kadaj back to the moment at hand.

"Vincent, how is he not dead? I watched him enter the Lifestream. Will this nightmare never end?" The blond swordsman's voice would have been audible on the roof even without enhanced hearing. He was not receiving Vincent's information well.

Kadaj recoiled from the lash of those words. Rejection. He had been right about Cloud. How naively foolish of him to have hoped Cloud might help find his brothers. He was just like everyone else. Kadaj's fist clenched around Souba's hilt. Baring the blades, he jumped lightly down from the roof. He reached for the door, but a rubbery wing blocked his way. He hadn't even noticed Chaos following him off the roof.

"Give it a moment."

"Get out of my way, Chaos," Kadaj growled.

With a shrug, the monster obliged and Kadaj swept into the bar. He crossed the room, headed straight for his blond nemesis. Cloud blocked Souba's strike with his own swiftly drawn sword.

"Outside. Take this outside!" Tifa had come from behind the bar and was gesturing for them both to get out.

Kadaj made a mock bow in her direction. "Join me outside, brother?" Kadaj backed to the door and Cloud followed his lead. Vaguely, he noted that Vincent, Chaos, and Tifa crowded the doorway after them to watch. None of them offered to interfere, though, and he kept his attention riveted on his rival.

Once outside, Cloud immediately launched a slashing attack. Kadaj deftly matched him. He was aware that both of them were agile and skilled swordsmen. Excitement coursed through his veins at crossing swords with Cloud once again. Kadaj may not have inherited all of Sephiroth's memories, but he had retained nearly all of the muscle memory of his predecessor. His so-called brother had beaten him before, but here was his second chance.

Their fight ranged up and down the narrow, dirty street in front of Seventh Heaven. Seeking an advantage, Kadaj leapt up onto an archway above the street and Cloud followed with every bit as much ease. A life-sized statue of an angel separated them, looking down impassively on their struggle for supremacy. Kadaj leaned against it with his right arm to counterbalance his weight as he struck at Cloud with Souba in his other – his dominant – hand.

He wasn't simply fighting Cloud – no, not anymore – he was fighting every bad thing that had happened: every betrayal, every abandonment, every disappointment.

"You think you are so much better than me! But you're just a puppet too!" Kadaj leapt back down to street level, followed closely by Cloud, who pressed relentlessly for an opening.

"I. Am. Not. A. Puppet!" Cloud's words were punctuated with decisive lunges at Kadaj. The metal of his sword rang as it struck Souba again and again.

The final attack flipped Souba out of Kadaj's hands and sent it sailing out of reach. Cloud quickly pressed his advantage, cornering Kadaj against a building.

"You were and you hate me because I remind you of that fact!" Kadaj spat the words at Cloud with all the venom he had. He might be cornered and he might not survive this fight, but he would say his piece, regardless of the consequences.

"Cloud?" Tifa questioned from the sidelines.

His sword still holding Kadaj at bay, Cloud took a deep shuddering breath. When he raised his head, he met Kadaj's eyes squarely. "It's not..." He trailed off and then started again, "I… just want to have a normal life. Every time I think things are starting to work out, Sephiroth is there to turn it upside down again. I finally have a chance to make things right… to have a family… and here you are to make sure it can't happen." Cloud was trembling, and the sharp edge of his blade pressed more firmly against Kadaj's chest.

"And what is it you think I want? Can't you believe that I want to be normal too? That I want family? All you see me as is a parasite. A larval Sephiroth. A bug under your almighty shoe. But you don't know me!"

Dropping his head slightly, Cloud removed the edge of his blade from across the front of Kadaj's chest and took a step back. Kadaj thought he detected a hint of the compassion he had sensed in Cloud before. "Perhaps… you're right. I don't know you. All I know is the pain and suffering Sephiroth has caused. Always." The swordsman halted, seeming to consider his next words carefully. Raising his head again, Cloud met his eyes with a quiet resolve. "So… you've got a chance to show you're different, but you only get one shot at it, so don't mess it up. If we cross swords again, I will kill you." With a decisive nod of his head, Cloud took another step back, placing more distance between them and effectively releasing Kadaj from against the wall.

Tifa stepped forward from her place by the door. "Why don't we go back in now, huh?"

Kadaj collected Souba from where it had fallen, but hesitated to follow the AVALANCHE members inside. Chaos stood to the side, apparently waiting to follow his lead. Finally, Kadaj ducked back into the bar, rolling his shoulders inconspicuously to relieve the tightness. He declined the seat Tifa offered – standing, he would be in a better position to defend himself in the tense and crowded atmosphere of the bar. He kept Souba in readiness as a further safeguard should events escalate.

"So… Kadaj, what are you going to do with yourself now?" The dark-haired martial artist smiled gently as she asked. He supposed it was sweet of her to try to diffuse the tension and break the ice with small talk, but his mouth was dry and he wasn't sure he could make small talk as if he and Cloud had not just been battling in deadly earnest in the street. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice would cooperate.

"I'm, ahem, going to find my brothers. And, I guess, a job." Kadaj glared at the AVALANCHE members, daring them to challenge his assertions. Daring them to laugh at his ambitions. But they did neither and a short silence hung in the air.

A meaning-filled look passed between Tifa and Cloud. It was awkward being around people who had such a close bond. Kadaj didn't have anyone anymore with whom he could communicate simply by a look. The horrid feeling of being alone rose up again, threatening to choke him.

"Uh… Kadaj… um, Strife Delivery could use another currier. You could come to work… for me."

Cloud's offer took him by surprise. Was this an olive branch? Kadaj looked up at his blond brother-of-sorts. No, there was an ulterior motive here.

"You just want to be able to keep an eye on me, isn't that right?" It made sense. So why did it hurt so much?

"I… won't deny that… supervision may play a part in wanting you close, but I… really do want to help you."

"I don't need your charity and I certainly don't need you for a babysitter." Kadaj moved towards the door. He had had enough of this. Enough of Cloud and his superiority.

His progress was immediately blocked by Tifa. "Kadaj. This is my bar and you are welcome here. I hope you and Cloud can work things out, but, either way, please, think of this as a refuge for hurt souls." She pulled down a yellow flyer from the bulletin board and handed it to him. "If you won't take Cloud's offer, take this." Tifa paused, but did not release him from her gaze, "But know this… if you ever harm anyone I love again…" She let the warning hang in the air before smiling again and stepping out of his way. Kadaj and his brothers had once faced a mother Mugbear with her cubs up near the Northern Crater and just then Tifa reminded him chillingly of that encounter. He blinked wordlessly before he continued towards the door without looking at the flyer she had given him.

At the door, his progress was halted yet again – Vincent Valentine this time. "Kadaj, this may prove useful to you." The ex-Turk proffered a cell phone in his outstretched hand. Kadaj met his eyes – unusual eyes that somehow reminded him of Chaos, even though they were of a completely different hue. No smile, but no malice there either. "I've taken the liberty of programming in some numbers."

Kadaj felt his anger bank marginally as he took the small device and weighed it in his hand. Valentine had gotten him – him, not Chaos, strangely enough – a phone, without even knowing how this encounter would play out. He was oddly moved by the gesture and ducked his head in brief thanks before exiting the bar. He sensed Chaos following in his wake, but had nothing to say to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Vendetta


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chaos watched the whelp finish hanging his new hammock in the warehouse. He didn't offer to help, but noted that at least the kid was smart enough to hang the hammock from the wooden beams of the ceiling and not from the piping that ran along it. Young pups could learn new tricks after all.

Maybe that was why Valentine had gotten the boy a phone instead of him? Perhaps the gunman thought the kid would be better suited to learning the technology? It shouldn't matter to him. No, it wasn't like he was jealous or anything – that would be ridiculous and utterly beneath him. Besides, he would be around long after all these humans were dead and gone. Their fleeting little lifespans were meaningless in the context of the whole realm of time.

What of Vincent, though? His lifespan had been artificially lengthened by his unnatural fusion with Chaos. Now that they were parted, would he retain his current state or would he return to aging as a normal human? Not that it mattered. He didn't care either way. It wasn't like he needed the morose ex-Turk – or anyone else – hanging around through the ages.

When the remnant had finished, he leaned back in the hammock and began to fold the yellow flyer he had received from Tifa into a paper airship. He didn't appear to be having much success, but there was a good chance he hadn't had much practice with such things. As best as he could tell, the boy hadn't had any normal childhood experiences. His time after emerging from the Lifestream the first go around had pretty much consisted of trying to take over the world, bring back Sephiroth, and do the will of that psycho alien, Jenova. That first lifetime had only lasted a matter of weeks before he was defeated and plopped back into the Lifestream by Cloud.

It was a strange circumstance that had melded cunning brilliance with childlike vulnerability and naiveté. There was probably not another individual on the Planet quite like this stray that had taken up residence with him. Sure, the boy thought his brothers were out there too, but Chaos highly doubted it. The fickle thing called life – or fate or happenstance or what-have-you – had a nasty sense of humor in his experience. Nope, he couldn't quite believe the boy's "brothers" were out there just waiting for some sappy "happily-ever-after" reunion.

The whelp noticed him watching and glared at him, his fine silver hair partially obscuring those odd cyan eyes. Apparently, he was still nursing his anger from earlier in the day. Chaos chuckled darkly as he recalled the events from their shopping expedition.

Chaos inspected a knife at the market critically. It was a bit crude in its construction and the blade probably wouldn't hold its edge. Plus, it was overpriced. Maybe he was getting old, but everything was overpriced. When he was a youth, things didn't cost this much. Of course, when he was young, no one used gil – bigger, smarter monsters ate smaller, dumber ones and took whatever they had. Yep… those were the days.

The boy had suggested they hit Market Town – the main buying and selling district in Edge – using the gil he had earned the day before. The whelp had been pretty quiet after their confrontation with Cloud, so Chaos was a little surprised at the offer, but not inclined to turn it down.

He had suggested the teen trade in his leather clothes for something less conspicuous, to which the teen had responded by rather pointedly eyeing his headdress and wings. He guessed the kid had a point. Black leather probably didn't stand out near as much as his own appearance. His cowl covered it pretty well for the time being, but soon, when the weather got warmer, it might become an issue.

The kid's gil wasn't going to go far. Apparently, janitorial professions weren't the most highly paid. The boy had bought a hammock and some food – for some reason the whelp had an aversion to eating rats – and then they had started visiting the weapons shops.

Chaos put the defective knife down. He noticed the boy had taken an interest in the glass cases containing Materia. Recalling the incident with the grashtrike, he wondered if he could safely handle other Materia. Was that an isolated incident, or was he going to have trouble with all Materia? He wasn't exactly eager to experiment with answering that question. That burn had hurt.

And, if it was all Materia that would affect him in this manner, then why? What had happened to him in separating from Valentine that could cause such a phenomenon? There wasn't exactly any precedence he could recall for reference on his current situation. Well, the kid had come back from the Lifestream too, but he hadn't been fused with another person and wasn't a demon to start with – well, not literally, anyway. Was there any chance this odd phenomenon would affect the boy too? He narrowed his eyes; it looked like he was about to find out. If he were nice, he would tell the kid what had happened to him, forewarning the whelp in case it wasn't an isolated occurrence. But where would be the fun in that?

Chaos found he was watching with bated breath as the shopkeeper handed over a shimmering ball of Materia to his eager young customer. Hissing loudly on contact, the teen dropped the Materia and grasped his left hand with his right. Apparently, whatever the phenomenon was, it had affected the kid too. Chaos made no effort to hide the smirk on his face or disguise the soft chuckle that erupted from him.

Still clasping his no-doubt burnt and itching hand, the lad turned suspicious eyes on him. Suspicion quickly gave way to fury. "You knew!" 

"Well, not technically. Suspected is more accurate."

If looks could kill, he would be roast chocobo about now. His chuckle intensified to a guffaw. 

Yep, the kid was still mad at him. Too bad. Standing, he walked over to the hammock and snatched the flyer out of the kid's hands. Flattening it out, he read the printed notice. Armed Escorts – top pay plus bounties. Hmm. With all the growth in Edge and the slow clearing and rebuilding going on in Midgar's ruins, there was a high demand for supply shipments across the wastes. Those supply shipments would need guarding from monsters and bandits – that made sense. This was actually something his silver-haired companion might be good at. However, the irony of either of them hunting monsters or protecting the innocent was not lost on him.

"Well?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to look into it. Don't think that means I'm giving up on finding Loz and Yazoo, though, because I'm not."

Chaos looked closer at the flyer. He rather expected the WRO would be the party in charge, but was surprised to see it was an independent contractor. Well, that was actually better than working for the WRO – less chance of running into Valentine or his acquaintances that way. Yes, he was going with the kid. Couldn't risk the whelp getting himself killed when he was just starting to bring in the gil. Besides, he was getting bored with this barren warehouse and of Edge at large.

Chaos deftly folded the flyer into a perfect replica of an airship. His lip twitched upwards; he knew the boy was watching. See, that's how it's done. True, humility wasn't his strongest suit.

He gave the paper airship a toss. As soon as it left his fingertips… it dropped to the ground like a chunk of granite off a cliff.

The whelp snickered.

"Shut up, boy."

"Don't call me 'boy'. I have a name, you know."

Sure, the kid had a name. Didn't mean he had to use it. It was gratifying to see his subtle slights were not going unnoticed. He found it much too rewarding to annoy the whelp with other appellations, so he wasn't about to start using his actual name. At least not before the Northern Crater thawed – maybe in a few more millennia.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Kadaj wiped sweat from his brow. The weather was turning unseasonably warm, and his body was not acclimated to the change. If it got much warmer, he might have to rethink wearing black. There was almost no breeze out here in the wastelands, and he noted Chaos had shed his outer garments, revealing his wings and headdress to whomever happened along – which, thus far, was no one.

Somehow, he had expected the job to be more glamorous than this… or, certainly, less boring. Still, it was better than mopping up at a bar – who knew bars were so disgusting? – and they had taken down a couple smaller groups of monsters on their first few forays out as armed guards. Not particularly challenging, but better than this monotony. He enjoyed the physical release of fighting and the sense of being good at something. Meanwhile, Chaos seemed content with the prospect of obtaining gil. In that regard, his companion struck him as remarkably single-minded.

He was glad he had been able to get his winged associate hired without Chaos having to show up for an interview, too. That would have been awkward. Hello, here is my roommate who wants a job killing monsters, boss. What? He looks like a monster himself? No, those aren't wings, those are just… Oh, his teeth? Well, yes, he has been meaning to see a dentist about that. His eyes? Well, um, he has an eye condition, you see… Yes, it was for the best that the contractors had hired his companion sight-unseen and no-questions-asked after his own interview.

The procedure was pretty straightforward: escort the cargo – whether a caravan or single truck or something else – to its intended destination and collect a flat predetermined fee for its safe arrival. Sometimes it meant riding on top of the trucks, sometimes it meant walking alongside. Sometimes it was a round-trip gig, and sometimes – like now – it meant walking back after the cargo arrived at its destination. What he wouldn't give for a motorcycle about now.

Any monsters destroyed in the process were quickly photographed before their dispersion into the Lifestream, and the photos transmitted via cell phone to the main office where their bounties would be credited to the proper accounts.

The job did seem to be working out, despite the boring aspects, and he supposed he owed Tifa a "thank-you," but since that would mean going back to Seventh Heaven and possibly seeing Cloud again, it probably wasn't going to happen right away, if at all. He wasn't bitter, exactly, towards the spikey blond; he just didn't know how to feel about him yet. On the one hand, the swordsman was giving him a second chance and hadn't killed him again when given the opportunity. On the other hand, he sensed the man's rejection and judgment… and, perhaps, that was even worse. It was like he was living in the man's shadow and was never going to measure up to the "hero" of the Planet. It wasn't enough to just not be evil, not when he was living in the wake of a veritable savior.

He needed to find his brothers: the only real solution to these depressing thoughts. So far, though, he had not been able to turn up so much as a single clue. He had asked around in Edge, as surreptitiously as possible, as well as putting the question to his current employer. And… nothing. He wasn't about to give up, though.

His hand brushed against a bulge in his pocket and he idly extracted the phone Vincent had obtained for him. Flipping it open, he glanced through the preprogrammed numbers: Vincent, Cloud, Tifa... Those were to be expected, he supposed. Reeve, that name sounded familiar – he would ask Chaos about him later. Rufus. No thank you. He was tempted to delete the number then and there.

A moment of déjà vu swept over him as he recalled the last occasion on which he had used a cell phone. He had called Rufus and had to endure the rude behavior of one of the Turks before being put through to the Shinra executive. The memory left a sour taste in his mouth, and he recalled how the smooth-talking man had blatantly lied to him. He flipped the phone closed and shoved it firmly back into his pocket.

Kadaj looked around at the surroundings. This segment of the terrain between Kalm and Edge was dusty and barren. Not only were there no monsters to fight, there wasn't even anything to look at. He adjusted the blue cloth he had taken to wearing at his neck to catch sweat and dust, neither of which was very comfortable if it got under his leather outfit.

But, there, in the distance. A bit of movement near a stand of boulders on the horizon. He looked to Chaos, ascertaining his companion had seen it as well. Technically, since they were on a return trip and not currently guarding a shipment, they didn't have to engage any threats, but anything beat this boredom, and the bounties were always welcome. With unspoken agreement, they left the road to investigate.

"Guard hounds," Chaos identified them as they drew nearer. "Deepground used packs of them to pursue their enemies. These probably went feral after the Tsviets were defeated."

Kadaj nodded. That made sense. Chaos had updated him on the details of Deepground and the Tsviet threat during some idle moments back at the warehouse. They paused now, still at a distance, to watch the animals. Dark blue-black fur rippled over lean muscled frames as the animals caught their scent and turned to watch. Red tentacles attached at the base of their necks snapped in agitation. A large one, presumably a male, roared.

It was a bit of a shame to have to destroy the creatures. They didn't have any more control over what they were than he did. They never asked to be genetically manipulated into monsters by sadistic or profit-minded Shinra scientists. He hadn't asked to be coalesced out of Sephiroth's darkest ambitions and contaminated Lifestream. No one would choose to be made a monster. He shot a quick look at his companion. Well, maybe Chaos would – he seemed quite comfortable with his identity as a monster.

He turned his attention back to the guard hounds. Yes, they were beautiful in a way. Nonetheless, the creatures posed a threat not only to the transports, but also to innocent civilians traveling between Edge and Kalm.

In silent agreement, the pair continued towards the pack of guard hounds until their proximity triggered the dog-like animals to initiate their own attack. From there it was a flurry of snarling teeth, lashing tentacles, Souba's bright gleam, and the flash of Chaos' gauntlet. Typically flamboyant in his combat, Kadaj kept this encounter as brief and straightforward as possible given his distaste for the task. Meanwhile, Chaos was his normal, bluntly aggressive killing-machine self.

In a relatively short span of time, blue-black bodies littered the ground, and the pair found themselves once again unopposed. Kadaj grimly set about the task of photo-cataloguing each kill so the bounties could be registered and credited.

Having finished, he looked around for Chaos, finally locating his companion on a rock-strewn mound of dirt some distance away. Closing the distance between them, he realized what had drawn the winged one over, and immediately wished he hadn't. A den… an occupied den.

Chaos unemotionally dispatched the first of the two kits as Kadaj approached. Chances were the monster was debating whether it was edible.

"Wait," Kadaj said even as Chaos snatched up the second pup… kit… cub? What did one call the offspring of guard hounds? His directive to wait was shocking to himself as well as Chaos, who turned to stare at him in question.

The pup thrashed in Chaos' metallic grip, attempting to whip at him with its pitiful tentacle. Grasping the kit by its scruff, just behind the tentacle, Kadaj took the creature from his companion and studied it. It was darker than its fellows, more nearly black than blueish, and sported a white patch running down its underbelly from its chin to its tail. It had ceased its struggles under his inspection, perhaps as a result of the transfer from the steely golden claw to Kadaj's own, more fleshly, grasp. Or perhaps the kit was studying him back with its own over-intelligent, tawny gaze.

Chaos eyed him suspiciously, "Don't let useless human emotions keep you from what is necessary. They are too young to survive on their own out here. It would be no kindness to leave them alive to starve or be attacked by other monsters."

He chose not to acknowledge the comment as he continued to study the creature held helpless before him. Again he marveled at the inherent beauty of the specimen. Not much bigger than a large bag of potatoes now, the pup would mature into one of the deadly beasts such as they had just conquered – rising above the waist in size and armed with teeth, claws, and vicious tentacle. Well, it would have, had it not the misfortune to be found and its kin killed. For a moment, he saw himself. Young, powerful and full of promise. Brought down before his time. Family slain. Alone in the world, against the world. Vulnerable, and without allies.

Kadaj froze. It was the first time he had honestly considered the possibility – the possibility Loz and Yazoo were not coming back, that he was completely and utterly alone.

No, they were out there – he refused to give up on them. But, still, what if?

Still held by its scruff, the pup brought its tentacle around to encircle his forearm in a gentle caress. He froze. The action startled him more than anything else the creature could have done.

"Uh-uh. No. You better not be thinking what I think you're thinking!" Chaos' outburst did not distract him from his contemplation of the dog-like science experiment. "It is a monster. It may look cute and cuddly now, but don't forget – don't ever forget – it is just a monster."

"Just a monster…" Kadaj repeated. "What are we, then? What do you think people see when they look at us?"

"Oh no. No, you don't. Don't even go there. That thing is nothing to do with us. Don't you even think of filling my lair with filthy strays."

With one hand, Kadaj stripped off the band of blue cloth he wore at his collar. Snugging it tightly around the guard hound's muzzle, he eliminated the threat of teeth. Then, using both hands, he nestled the large pup against his chest and breathed in its scent. Pine – oddly enough, given the desert-like surroundings.

"Let's go home."

Behind him, his winged companion sighed audibly. "Just remember, I don't do litter boxes."

"It's a guard hound, not a cat."

"Same difference."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the loyal readers who are still hanging in there! Hopefully you enjoyed the addition of a guard hound to our little group. Your support means so much to me.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Keeping the two-legged stray had been bad enough. Having him drag home his own stray was surely topping on the cake. Whose lair was this, anyway?

Chaos watched as the boy attempted to teach the guard hound to "stay," but it appeared the cub had more interest in playing than learning. To his credit, the silver-haired stray was showing more patience with his four-legged pupil than Chaos would have expected.

As if sensing his thoughts, the guard hound turned her Mako-brightened eyes on him in silent regard – odd that the eyes proved to be a heritable trait.

Overall, he found her eerie. There was too much intelligence in those eyes for just a cub – just a beast. And whoever said humans had an advantage over animals on account of opposable thumbs had never had a pet with a tentacle. Opposable thumbs had nothing on what the black creature could accomplish with her whip-like appendage. She was a fast-growing animal and her tentacle had already achieved a five-foot reach, giving her access to practically anything she desired – which was amusing when it was the whelp's throwing knives she helped herself to. Not so amusing when it was his stash of jerky she pilfered.

He also wondered if the species should have been called "night hounds" instead of "guard hounds." The lithe cub was decidedly nocturnal, and had no respect for those who were not. Of course, Chaos was pretty nocturnal himself, so it was probably more of a hardship on the boy than anyone else. Served him right.

He had to admit she was good for the teen. The boy seemed less consumed with thoughts of his missing brothers since her arrival, and he smiled, at times, without that typical mocking cast to his features. Not that Chaos cared whether his stray smiled or not. He just noticed, that was all.

The guard hound had accompanied them on their last few escort assignments. Admittedly, her presence helped to break up the monotony between encounters.

However, at the moment Chaos was sick of watching the two strays. When he stood and headed out into the street, the whelp didn't even acknowledge his leaving. It wasn't like he needed a reaction, though. He shifted his wings restlessly and let his feet choose their own course. Not surprisingly, they led him somewhere familiar.

Seventh Heaven was doing steady business this evening. Tifa ought to think about hiring more help, Chaos reflected, as he claimed his usual perch near the skylight. He had become used to the ebb and flow, the daily patterns at the bar. This time of day – dusk – brought out the families looking for an evening meal together. Later, the families would give way to couples out for a date, and, later yet, the more serious drinkers out to drown their miseries. Good luck to them on that.

He couldn't say why he came on evenings like this when Vincent wasn't around. Not that he could say why he came when Vincent was visiting, either. Chaos found he watched the families most of all – both the customers and the oddly stitched together family Cloud and Tifa had formed with the two kids. The families of Edge were an unremarkable lot to look at, dressed in drab colors and showing the wear of a hard life in the midst of so many catastrophes following one upon another. Yet, still, he watched them. The way they refused to give up. The warmth in the smiles that flashed between mother and father, the gentle encouragement from parents to their little ones, and even the discipline of the children when they were out of line. It was all foreign to him.

"It's not polite to spy on people." The chiding statement startled Chaos, and he turned abruptly to face the little girl who had joined him on the roof without his knowledge. She confronted him with a fearless and accusatory glare that was a bit shocking on a child who only came to just above his waist. The girl that stayed with Tifa and Cloud – what was her name again?

"Marlene? Are you up here?" Tifa's voice called.

Ah, yes, Marlene.

Tifa's head soon followed her voice as she climbed the steps leading to the roof. She drew in an extra breath at seeing Chaos and wrapped her arms protectively around the girl. "Chaos, what are you doing up here?" Something about her posture and direct question reminded him that this small-looking female had faced down not only Sephiroth, but also Bahamut and countless other horrors that would have sent most grown men crawling under their beds in terror.

"He was being rude and spying on people."

Busted. Weeks and weeks of hanging out up here and now caught by a little female tadpole. Wasn't that just his luck?

"Marlene, this is Chaos. Remember how I told you about Vincent's… friend?" Tifa's hesitation made him smirk. Most likely she would have used the word "parasite" instead if it weren't for the tadpole.

"Oh, okay." The girl's simple acceptance was so forthright and complete, it took him by surprise. "It's still not polite to spy on people."

"Duly noted." It wasn't every day he got scolded by a tadpole.

"Marlene, let's invite Chaos downstairs. Maybe he would play with you awhile as I take care of some more customers."

"I don't play with dollies." He couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the thought.

"Neither do I, silly!" And, just like that, her little hand was slipped into his and tugging him unrelentingly towards the steps. He was reminded of her hiding behind Valentine's cloak in the Forgotten City when Cloud was being a moron. He would never have expected her to accept him as readily as Vincent, though.

Downstairs, the girl pushed him almost forcibly into a booth seat and skipped merrily off to retrieve something or other. Most likely it would prove to be some instrument of torture. How was it he could spend hours squatting on the roof with not a cramp, but less than two minutes in this booth and he felt about ready to crawl out of his skin? Definitely too many people around.

The tadpole was back in a blink and plopped a box down on the table in front of him. Chess. Well, things were looking up. How hard could it be to win a game of strategy against a child?

"Don't be fooled. She may be only eight years old, but she is a killer when it comes to chess." Tifa's warning didn't deter him at all. She was probably sending a subtle suggestion to let the kiddo win – spare her fledgling self-confidence or some such thing – but that wasn't going to happen. He was, after all, a demon.

Chaos chose black, naturally. He had never played the game of strategy, but how hard could it be? The girl told him the rules, how each piece moved and its limitations – okay, so it was a little complicated, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Tifa stopped by their booth with a fresh baked cinnamon roll for Marlene and – to his surprise – one for him, as well. Wow, just… wow. He was never eating a rat again. Ever. How could he have lived this long and not known about fresh-baked cinnamon rolls? He licked the last bit of icing from his fingers, ignoring the girl's assertions that licking fingers was impolite.

"Checkmate!" the tadpole crowed triumphantly.

A fluke. That's all it was. He was just getting acquainted with the rules this time around. He would prevail on the rematch.

Seven games and four hours later, he had to concede maybe it wasn't a fluke.

"Marlene, you need to go up and get ready for bed." Tifa's voice broke into their game, causing him to look up and notice the bar's clientele had shrunk and shifted from families to couples and singles.

"Awww…" Marlene made the universal sound of protest used by children around the Planet, a sound even Chaos recognized.

"No 'buts,' young lady. Your father is going to be here tomorrow, and you don't want to be too tired to spend time with him. Upstairs, now." Tifa would make a pretty good drill sergeant or… mother. Not that Chaos knew much about either of those things. His was a solitary existence – with the exception of the time spent shackled against his will to Valentine – and he liked it that way. Really, he did.

"She likes you, you know." Tifa halted by the booth after the tadpole scampered upstairs.

"Couldn't tell it by the way she wiped the table with my chess pieces."

"She doesn't believe in throwing a game. The only way you will win against her is fair and square. She has a pretty strong sense of fairness, of right and wrong… She is also a pretty good judge of character." Tifa was studying him from behind her long eyelashes as if she wanted to say something more, but instead turned to attend to another customer's needs.

Well, there wouldn't be a chance to win fair and square, since he wasn't planning to come back to the bar – not inside, anyway. Then again, it was kind of nice how the whole place had faded away for hours. And the way her hand had felt as it slipped into his and dragged him down the stairs… well, that was okay, he guessed. If he ever had a kid, he would want a girl like Marlene, one that wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. Wait! What was he thinking? Never happening. He didn't want kids at all. Ever.

Besides, he was the last of his species, so it wasn't like that was even possible. Not to mention with all the blundering around those Shinra monsters who called themselves "scientists" had done, there was no telling how messed up his genes were now. Besides, what kind of a father would he be? He wasn't going to raise a kid the way he was raised. Sure, he turned out just fine, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be that harsh with a child. And he sure didn't know anything about raising one any other way, not like Tifa and Cloud. If he were a parent, he would want to be like them, but that was foolish thinking – he would never be a parent.

Maybe, though, just maybe, he would play against the tadpole again. Just to be nice. She must be a lonely kid, with Cloud and Tifa working so much and her dad off doing whatever it was he was doing. Yeah, he would come back sometime for her sake. He would only be doing it for the tadpole.

Not that he was going soft. Certainly not. No, he would really just be doing it for free cinnamon rolls. Right.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Kadaj swirled the red liquid in his glass while the guard hound pup played at his feet. Fortunately, the shot glass she had found to play with was made of heavy, nearly unbreakable glass. It made an odd rattling noise as she batted it in circles across the floor, her paws dwarfing the tiny glass. He kept a close eye on her here at Johnny's Heaven. Her tentacle seemed to have a mind of its own and would randomly snatch things off the countertop from time to time. He didn't mind, even when she occasionally broke glass items, which Johnny would then put on his account. Her antics helped keep his mind off topics it had already tirelessly run into the ground. He reached down to scratch her ears, and she leaned against his leg.

The dark-coated animal had already doubled in size, one of the outcomes of the genetic manipulation forced upon her species. Faster growth meant faster readiness for deployment either as a weapon or an agent of protection. Shinra was predictable in those days of genetic tampering – always thinking of the bottom line, no matter who got hurt along the way.

Now, according to Chaos, Shinra had become a significant behind-the-scenes funder for the WRO and its works of progress. It remained unclear, however, whether that represented a true change of heart, or simply a more devious scheme to manipulate and retain control.

He was mostly tuning out the redhead behind the bar and letting his mind wander to other things when another voice broke through to his conscious awareness – a soft-spoken voice right outside the barroom entrance.

"Sure, Reeve. I don't mind meeting here, but… what's on your mind that you didn't want to talk about at Seventh Heaven?" Cloud. With Reeve, who – Chaos had informed him – was the head of the WRO.

Kadaj brought his head up sharply as he scanned the bar for someplace out of sight. He was not ready to confront the blond again so soon. Seeing no other option, he pulled himself across the bar and down the other side, making the redhead's eyes go wide. If the bartender didn't stop staring at him, hiding was going to be pointless – not to mention much more embarrassing when he was discovered. He motioned furiously for the man to ignore him. Johnny looked at him harder for a moment and then set about zealously polishing some already clean mugs. Kadaj sighed in relief and let his head fall back against the cabinetry while tuning his ears to hear more of the conversation as his one-time nemesis and the fellow named Reeve entered the bar.

There was the opening necessity of pleasantries: Reeve inquiring after Tifa and the kids and Cloud's quiet responses. The blond seemed more impatient to get to the point of the meeting, whereas, Kadaj guessed, his companion was stalling.

"What's going on, Reeve?" Cloud pushed a little harder once Johnny had served them drinks.

The older man let out his breath. "I'm leaving Edge, Cloud."

Cloud must have indicated his surprise somehow, and Reeve continued, "My doctors are recommending relocating… to Mideel." He let this information sink in and then continued, "They say the clean air, temperate climate, and lower elevation will be better for my lungs."

"Your lungs?"

"Ironic isn't it? I guess no amount of penance spares us the consequences of our sins. There is a kind of poetic justice that the same air I helped pollute is killing me."

"It's that serious?" Cloud's solemn voice was even softer than usual.

"Well, I'm not ready to 'kick the bucket' yet, if that's what you are asking. But yes, my doctors say if I don't leave the area and find a better climate, I won't be here in another five years."

"What about the WRO?"

"That's actually what I wanted to meet with you about. I thought it better that you and I talk without an audience."

"You mean Tifa."

"Yes, what I am going to ask is serious, and I wanted to give you time to think about it before anyone else knows." Reeve coughed, and kept coughing. Kadaj winced in sympathy at the deep, wet sound. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I just can't stop once the cough starts. You know, I am actually looking forward to Mideel? Anyhow, about the WRO, I wanted to ask you if you would step up as head of the agency."

"I—" Cloud began.

"You have all the qualifications for this type of leadership, even if you don't see them. I should know, I was there – well, Cait Sith was there. You led AVALANCHE through thick and thin. And then again when the remnants appeared, you handled the situation. I can't think of anyone I would trust more with the future of the WRO and Edge – and Midgar, as it's rebuilt. It's not been easy, deciding to hand the reins over, and it's something I can only do if I fully trust my successor."

Cloud was silent in the face of Reeve's urging. Finally, he said, "I… can't, Reeve. It's not that I… don't believe in myself – not anymore – but I have responsibilities now. Tifa and the kids need me; I see that now. I don't think I can be what – who – they need and manage the WRO. My priorities have been pretty messed up. I can't afford to make that mistake again."

Reeve chuckled. "Don't look like you just stepped on my toe. I expected that answer from you. And I am proud of you for it."

"You are?"

"Sure. And don't worry – I actually have someone else in mind that I think will work out fine."

"Who?"

"I had better not say until I get an answer from him, but I think he will be perfect – nearly as good a choice as you would have been. He's younger – well, I suppose he is a little older than you, but younger than me. I think it's about time for my generation to turn control over to the next. We made a royal mess of things… me, Scarlet, Heidegger, Palmer, the President… I have tried to atone through the WRO, but I think it's time to hand over the torch and hope the next generation does a better job than we did."

"So, this other person…"

"I don't think you've met. You'd like him though. He's smart, too – probably the best intel agent we've seen. He's private though, doesn't care for crowds and likes to remain in the shadows. If he agrees to head up the WRO, I'll make sure to introduce you."

"I think I'd like that."

"So, speaking of intel, I hear you've had a little excitement lately?"

"You mean Kadaj?"

They were going to talk about him. This could very well be the most awkward moment of his life thus far. The impulse to sink into the floor warred with the impulse to listen to every detail with fascinated interest.

"Yes, I can't imagine what that must have been like for you – him showing up after being gone this last year."

"Yeah, it's weird, you know. I mean… it's a little like having Sephiroth back again, but… not. When I look at him, it's like I… can't help but see Aerith as the Masamune took her from us. I – we lost so much to him. Even Cait Sith… I know you've made newer models, but that doesn't take away from his sacrifice – and it's all because of Sephiroth. When I see Kadaj, I think of all those things and the things Kadaj tried to do: kidnapping the kids, summoning Bahamut, bringing back Sephiroth… even torturing Tseng and Elena; and I think how can I look past all of those things? But then, I… I know better than most what it's like to be controlled by Jenova – after all, I gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth. I nearly killed Aerith… I was powerless."

"You see yourself in him, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe… sometimes. And there's more. Even with everything Kadaj and his brothers did, I feel like… like I almost owe them. I was on a bad path and it almost cost me Tifa. In a way, the remnants are responsible for showing me what I had to lose… for waking me up before it was too late."

"I never thought of it that way." The two men sat in silent reflection for a few minutes before Reeve added, "By the way, you weren't the only one to encounter Kadaj." He described in accurate detail the Turks' visit to the warehouse. Apparently, the WRO had eyes in many places, informants even within the elite of Shinra. Reeve finished his tale of the Turks' failure. "Well, I guess if it brings a smile to your face, perhaps we should be grateful to Kadaj after all."

"Maybe." A little of the smile found its way into Cloud's voice.

"Don't worry too much about Kadaj. The WRO is assigning an operative to keep an eye on the situation."

"What about Chaos? Do you think he will be a problem?" Cloud asked.

"I don't know. Vincent doesn't seem to think so, and I am inclined to trust his judgment. He probably understands the situation better than any of the rest of us." The head of the WRO started coughing again and took a while to get himself under control.

Soon, the sounds of the two men getting up filtered across the bar and down to Kadaj.

"Johnny, when did you get the new pet? Aren't you afraid it will scare off customers?" Reeve called, his voice accompanied by the sound of their steps approaching the door.

The redhead made an inarticulate sound, and for a moment Kadaj was sure he was going to reveal his presence, inadvertently or not. But Reeve and Cloud continued out the door, apparently not questioning the redhead's lack of speaking faculties or the multiple glances he threw in the direction of the floor behind the slate-topped bar. The redhead slumped with visible relief once the door had closed behind his noteworthy customers.

Then the bartender straightened and gazed down at Kadaj. "Do you have something to tell me? Kadaj?"

Now why had he gone and told the barkeeper his real name? Of course, jumping over the bar and hiding might have let on that something was up, even if the redhead hadn't overheard Reeve and Cloud discussing him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, 'Thank you for the drink.' Now, stay out of my business." He turned on his heel and left before he would have to see the expression on the man's face – he could do without the kicked-puppy look right now. Holding the door open just long enough to let the guard hound out behind him, he strode into the light of the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imaginary cupcake for anyone who can guess who will be heading up the WRO.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Kadaj wished it were night rather than broad daylight. He needed to walk the empty streets and breathe in fresh air. He needed to be alone in the comforting arms of the dark as he processed Cloud's revelations. Instead, the bright noonday light assaulted his eyes and the people pressed in on all sides, going about their daily tasks.

He would just have to return to the dimness and the stale air of the warehouse. At least there he could be alone to think.

But not as alone as he was hoping.

Irritation tightened his chest. Not only was Chaos at the lair, but he was lying on Kadaj's hammock, as comfortable as a chocobo chick in a nest – well, a very bat-like chocobo chick. The nonverbal statement was plain: What's mine is mine and what's yours is mine, too.

He halted inside the doorway and considered, letting his hair conceal his expression. The monster was clearly on a power trip. Left unchecked, the level of presumption and condescension was bound to escalate. Yet he couldn't fight Chaos over something as petty as the use of his hammock any more than he could simply let it go.

He did not need this right now – all he had wanted was to come home and think. Home. What a funny word. When had he started to think of it that way? But, truly, that was the crux of the matter. Loathe as he was to admit it, he didn't want to leave – to be on his own again – at least, not until he found his brothers.

How could he respond to this delicate balance without giving up ground to Chaos or initiating a conflict he couldn't afford?

Silently, the guard hound pup rose from where she had settled beside him and paced to Chaos' stash of belongings on the far side of the room. With a glance over her shoulder at him, she began snuffling through the monster's belongings.

"Kid – get your vermin out of my stuff."

He pretended not to hear Chaos and smiled as he heard the unmistakable sounds of a guard hound eating.

"Argh, not my jerky again!" Chaos shouted as he leapt out of the hammock.

For a moment, Kadaj froze in fear that his roommate would harm the half-grown pup. It had seemed funny at the moment, but he would not forgive himself – or Chaos – if the guard hound were injured. He relaxed when he saw she was faster than the winged being and evaded him with ease.

The monster gave up after a half-hearted attempt at seizing her tentacle and proceeded to assess the damage to his comestibles.

Kadaj helped himself to the hammock and let his hand trail down to the guard hound's soft fur as she settled below him.

Chaos, having finished his inspection of the guard hound's depredations, stalked huffily to the door, where he paused. "Keep your feline out of my stuff." Then he was gone.

"She's a guard hound, not a cat," Kadaj muttered to the empty warehouse.

But finally, the warehouse was his, a quiet refuge for his thoughts – the tranquility of the warehouse broken only by the self-satisfied noises of the pup cleaning her whiskers.

\---------  
Returning in the early hours of the morning from another visit to Seventh Heaven, Chaos settled on his mat and eagerly unwrapped the cinnamon roll Tifa had sent home with him "for Kadaj." He glanced at the boy, who was meticulously cleaning and oiling his brother's gun, the one he called Velvet Nightmare. What the whelp doesn't know can't hurt him. Besides, there was no way he was going to share with the boy after the events of the previous day. He was still miffed his power play had backfired. No doubt the guard hound had done it on purpose, too. If it weren't for having discovered the delectable goodness of cinnamon rolls, he would probably eat the overgrown housecat in retaliation. Yep, that's what he would do, if he were not preoccupied…

Chaos pointedly ignored the boy as he proceeded to bite into the gooey, still-warmness that was sheer intoxication.

"It's inconsiderate to eat his cinnamon roll in front of him." Stupid Inner Voice. Why did it have to plague him now? It was bad enough dealing with the tadpole's chidings – at least those he could leave behind when he wanted. Well, fine. He turned his back to the teen and commenced devouring the cinnamon roll. I'm not eating "in front of him" now. He smiled wickedly at having pulled one over on the Inner Voice.

This train of thought brought back his conversation earlier with Tifa on the roof of Seventh Heaven. It had been after the closing of the bar and long after Marlene had gone to bed, the child having defeated him at not only chess but an assortment of other games as well.

Since the victorious tadpole had headed to bed, he returned to his favored perch on the roof. He let his gaze rove over the rooftops of Edge, unusually at peace within himself, despite being foiled first by the guard hound and then by the tadpole. 

Some hours later, after the last slightly slurring customer was chased out and the doors locked for the night, he heard the haunting notes of the baby grand. Tifa played the same song as she had on the day Cloud had presented her with the piano. Tonight, the music had a soothing effect on Chaos, and he felt the muscles in his back and wings loosen in response.

When the piano finally fell silent, he supposed Tifa would go to bed. Instead, he felt a surge of territorial irritation when he registered her presence on the roof. This was his space. He claimed it, and what right had anyone else to intrude upon it? 

The feeling faded when the martial artist remained silent and merely followed his gaze across the darkened city with her own.

A question had been playing through his mind. One he had not thought to ask anyone. After all, it wasn't as if he had a long list of confidants. But in the comfortable silence of Tifa's presence, the question came unbidden to his lips: "Do people normally have voices inside their heads?"

He refused to meet her gaze when she looked at him sharply. If there were a way to retrieve those words, he would have done so. Why did he open his big mouth?

"Like someone else's voice? Like when Cloud was hearing Sephiroth?"

Naturally she would make that connection. It wasn't quite like Cloud's situation; at least, he didn't think so. "More like hearing your own voice telling you things."

"Mm-hmm, what kinds of things is it telling you?"

"What? No, not me. Just… hypothetically, if someone did hear a voice – if it told them to be nice and not do bad things." This was stupid. Why did he think Tifa would have any answers for him anyway?

"You mean… like a conscience?"

He had never thought of that. A conscience? His kind didn't have any such thing. 

What an annoying concept. 

But it fit… the voice in his head bossing him around. 

If one mysteriously acquired a conscience, was there a way to get rid of it?

"It's not a bad thing, Chaos. For 'whomever' you were speaking about, of course."

How did this happen to him? What had he done to deserve something as terrible as a conscience? 

"Hnn… I blame Vincent." 

With that, he launched into the air from the rooftop, a liberty he rarely afforded himself, and opened his wings wide to catch the night breeze. 

A conscience, indeed.

Chaos finished the last bite of cinnamon roll and lay down to sleep for the day.

Him? A conscience? Ludicrous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> If you are interested in such details, the song Tifa plays here and in Chapter 2 is "Tifa's Theme" which you can listen to on Youtube if you are so inclined.  
>  Vendetta


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Kadaj quickened his pace as they approached the village, its lights a beacon in the darkness that had fallen abruptly across the grasslands. Tonight was a rare treat. Given the distance between their objectives and the amount of gil they had acquired on this mission, the pair had agreed to spend a night at an inn – with real beds. That would be a relief after this latest trip to the Chocobo Farm where they had slept in the stalls. His skin still itched in places where the straw had touched him, not to mention the nuisance of the birds themselves. Truly, if he never saw one of those overgrown chickens again, it would be too soon.

The town was unremarkable, its streets indistinguishable from any number of other streets in any number of the other small towns that dotted the Continent. Scanning the signs that identified each of the buildings along the main road through town, Kadaj found that there was only one inn, and it looked like it had seen better days. He laid his baggage down and issued the guard hound a soft command to "stay" before entering the building.

The long-faced desk clerk eyed Kadaj with mild suspicion before pushing a ledger across the counter in his direction. Chaos stood silently behind him with his cowl once again pulled up to hide his unusual appearance, despite the warmth of the evening.

"Sign your names here. Payment in advance. No illegal activities. You break anything, you pay for it. If you have chocobos, they can stay in the stable at no extra charge." The clerk sounded like he had repeated this same litany a million times. He probably had.

Kadaj shook his head in regards to chocobos and needing the stable. He jotted K. Dodge and E. N. Tropy in the ledger. No sense in leaving a paper trail. Even if they were working to be respectable, law-abiding citizens, there were still people who could have malevolent or vengeful intentions towards them.

"Any pets?" The inn clerk sounded bored.

"Uh, one?"

"What kind?"

Kadaj hesitated. Guard hounds weren't exactly the norm, and people tended to give them an even wider berth now that there was a guard hound pacing along in their company – even if she wasn't yet fully grown. He didn't want to be denied a happily anticipated night's lodging on account of the guard hound. He glanced at Chaos and back at clerk.

"Dog," he replied at the same time Chaos stated, "Cat." The clerk's bored look disappeared, replaced again with suspicion.

"Uh, that is… our dog that thinks she's a cat," Kadaj covered with an awkward laugh.

"Pet's name?"

"Uh, Fluffy?" That sounded pretty non-threatening, didn't it?

"Hmm. Room 203. Top of the stairs and on your right." The clerk seemed to have accepted their story and returned to bored mode.

The pair climbed the stairs and found their room. It was nothing special, but would beat sleeping on the ground. An exterior door led to a shared balcony and stairs, which Kadaj descended in order to furtively fetch their baggage, along with the half-grown guard hound that had been keeping their things safe.

"Fluffy?"

Kadaj was pretty sure there was a note of amusement in Chaos' voice. It was hard to tell with Chaos, but he was pretty sure. "It got us a room, didn't it?"

"Hnn… So, does she have a name?"

Kadaj had never thought about it. She was always just "the guard hound" or "that pup." She was part of their group now, though, so she deserved a name. As he looked at her, his mind was filled with all she had come to mean to him in the short time they had been together. Honestly, he would feel lost without her at his side. She had been the catalyst that first allowed him to consider the possibility his brothers might not be alive. He and she were both pseudo-monsters set loose in a world that would never fully accept them as anything else. Everything of value had been stripped from them. In a strange way, she was almost an extension of himself.

She gazed back at him and tilted her head to match his, her eyes gleaming.

"Her name is Vendetta." He gave her ears a rub as he settled onto one of the twin beds and kicked off his boots.

The guard hound chuffed her approval and leapt onto the bed beside him. What might work for smaller pets didn't necessarily hold true for a hundred-plus pound guard hound, and he found himself wedged uncomfortably close to the wall. He supposed he should have made her get off, but instead he shifted into a more accommodating position and pulled the pillow under his head while stroking her midnight fur.

The conversation with the inn clerk had prompted some disquieting thoughts, and his mind seemed intent on mulling them over. It was easier during the day, when there were monsters to slay, miles to walk, and daylight shining brightly down, but times like these were the times when doubts assailed him with more ferocity than any Bahamut ever could.

His eyes wandered to the wall, seeking distraction. The place looked like it had not been painted in a few decades – or cleaned, for that matter. Bits of miscellaneous substances stained spots on the walls, and some writing was scratched into the paint in one place just above eye-level.

My soul, corrupted by vengeance

Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey

In my own salvation, and your eternal slumber.

How long ago had the lines been etched there in ragged letters, and what hand had committed the act? The words didn't entirely make sense, but they lingered in his mind. His eyes tracked the poem from its end back to the top.

Salvation. What did that even mean?

Vengeance. If it turned out he was alone in the world, that Loz and Yazoo were lost to him, would vengeance be his new – his sole – purpose?

Corrupted. His fingers traced over the word as he read it again. Was that the inevitable outcome for him? Was he destined to only ever be the tainted remnant of a darkened and destructive soul?

My soul. Could that word even be applied to him – to the one everyone still saw as a monster?

Across the room, Chaos extinguished the light, and Kadaj heard the springs of the other bed groan under the weight of the winged being.

Turning his back on the wall and its cryptic message, he allowed his hand to rest on Vendetta's rhythmically rising and falling chest. The faint hint of pine enveloped him. Gently, his fingers dug into the warmth of her coat as a single droplet of moisture traced its way down his cheek in the darkness.

Don't cry, Loz… 

Don't cry, Yazoo…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For having slept in the relatively accommodating confines of an inn – albeit a less than luxurious one – the whelp seemed inexplicably glum this morning. Chaos had covertly watched him as they packed their possessions and checked out of the inn. What had gotten into the kid's head? Uncertainty was building in him. How was he to deal with this sudden mood shift in the silver-haired teen? Not that it was his responsibility to cheer the boy up; he just didn't want to have the kid's bad mood ruining his day, was all.

How did one go about cheering up a moody teen, anyway? None of the ideas that came to mind seemed plausible. He didn't know any jokes. Sure, he could try to get the kid to talk, but even if he was successful – which seemed unlikely – then he would just have to listen to the boy's problems. Ugh, it wasn't like he was a therapist or anything. He wasn't good at this kind of thing.

At this point, any mood would be better than the listlessness he was seeing.

Well, if there was a mood he was good at eliciting, it was anger...

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea after all? The kid couldn't be morose and enraged at the same time, could he?

Two topics were sure to generate a reaction from the whelp. He would try the lesser of them first. "Any news on your brothers?"

If possible, the boy's shoulders hunched further as he silently shook his head. Well, that didn't go as planned. He just needed to push a little harder, maybe. "Perhaps you should give up carrying Velvet Whatsit and Dual Thingabob around, then. After all, their weapons are just dead weight if you're never going to find them anyway."

His prodding should have generated the usual explosive reaction, but instead the kid just looked more dejected than ever. Okay… time to bring out the big guns.

"How about Mother? Any word from that psycho?" There, that would surely do the trick.

The boy turned murderous cyan eyes on him. "If you know what's good for you, you will shut up right now."

Yep, seemed to be working. "Or what? You'll bring back Sephiroth? That didn't work out so well last time, did it?"

The kid launched himself at Chaos, pummeling him with both hands and shrieking in that high voice he used when angry. Well, at least he wasn't using Souba, thanks for small blessings – that is, if he believed in such things. Nevertheless, the boy was stronger than he looked, and Chaos' chest was starting to hurt and his lip was bleeding by the time the teen slumped to the ground a few minutes later. It was a good thing he stopped when he did – Chaos' patience could only go so far.

Chaos wiped the blood from his lip. This had better have worked.

After a moment, Chaos extended his hand into the boy's space. The teen knocked it away, but got up anyway, his silver locks hiding his face.

"Feel better?"

"Don't quit your day job."

But behind the anger, the kid did sound a tad perkier.

Good. The remnant needed to carry his own weight, and he certainly wasn't good for much when he was moping around.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Kadaj stepped off the road to Edge for a moment to pry a pebble out of the tread of his boot. Vendetta was off in the brush somewhere scaring up prey. Chaos halted beside him and drank from his canteen, watching with no real interest as Kadaj dislodged the stone with his knife.

The winged being was still a mystery to him. Every time Kadaj thought he understood him, Chaos moved in some new, incomprehensible direction that left him confused all over again. Even more bewildering and disorienting, the monster seemed to have an uncanny ability to read him. He was accustomed to being one step ahead of everyone else, not the other way around. Of course, that was when Jenova was pulling the strings. He did not miss her – and certainly did not miss being used like a puppet. But he did miss the certainty; he missed the perfect clarity and the lack of doubt. Now, everything seemed murky, like he was stumbling in the dark.

When Chaos had started taunting him earlier, it had seemed like he was just trying to pick a fight. Angered by the persistent jibes, Kadaj had lashed out at him. Now, though, he questioned the monster's true motives. Had his intent been something other than simply eliciting a reaction? If so, his companion was more complex than he had believed.

Having finished removing the troublesome stone, Kadaj wiped his face with the pale blue cloth he wore at his neck. He had changed his black leather outfit for a plain dark t-shirt on the return trip, as he often did whenever he and Chaos were alone and now that the temperatures were warmer. He preferred to reserve his leather for active escort duty or other occasions when they were especially likely to encounter monsters, such as when they traveled past old Mako reactor sites. It provided the best protection in a fight, even if it was on the warm side for this weather. He also found that the leather intimidated people – a plus when acting as guards. But in peaceful moments like this, the t-shirt was more comfortable.

Having re-secured his neck cloth and hearing the sound of grass parting some distance away, Kadaj glanced up, expecting to see Vendetta returning with whatever prey she had been stalking. He was startled to see not one but three guard hounds bearing down on them. Dark blue bodies caught the sunlight and red tentacles whipped behind them. White teeth glinted, bared to the gums. Chaos took a fighting stance while Kadaj stood and drew Souba.

From behind them the sound of another beast approached. Turning to put his back to Chaos in preparation to face a new threat, Kadaj saw it was Vendetta returning. Good, even odds – one for each of them. They shouldn't have any problem dispatching the three feral guard hounds. On that thought, he turned back to face their attackers.

Vendetta ran past them to confront the guard hounds, a vision of supple fluidity. Chaos and Kadaj moved forward more slowly to join the clash and provide backup. As the black and white guard hound neared the three newcomers, she slowed, putting her nose in the air to better catch their scent. Kadaj knew her well enough to interpret her behaviors with precision. Confusion drew her to a halt as she tried to process the new smell.

Time slowed as he realized what was happening. They had not encountered guard hounds again since acquiring Vendetta. She would be registering the scent of guard hounds as familiar. Kadaj cried out in dismay as he saw he was right. The young guard hound, responding to a repressed pack instinct, came to an abrupt halt and offered a submissive pose and appeasing whine to the newcomers now mere feet away.

A cold hand of fear grasped Kadaj's heart as he saw Vendetta submit to the feral monsters. Not sharing in her sense of familiarity and recognition, the first tore into her exposed underside as the other two bounded past to engage Chaos and Kadaj. Kadaj registered red blood pouring from his tentacled companion before having to focus all of his attention on engaging the attacking guard hound.

Kadaj deflected the leaping body of the guard hound by turning to the side and catching its body with a sweeping kick. He quickly followed up with a fatal plunge of Souba to the creature's heart. A quick glance to the left showed that Chaos had dispatched his guard hound as well and was engaging the third. Knowing a guard hound was no match for Chaos, Kadaj sprinted to Vendetta's side.

Blood mingled with the foamy saliva of the beast on Vendetta's dark side, spilling down onto the ground beneath her. The white of her underbelly had all but disappeared in red. So much blood. Kadaj was used to seeing blood, but it had never been blood that mattered. A quick assessment showed gashes and punctures along her neck and shoulders, but by far the most serious wound was on her abdomen where the attacking guard hound had seized her and torn the flesh severely. He knew first aid. He should know what to do to slow the blood loss, but he couldn't think.

No, no, no. He couldn't lose Vendetta.

Her eyes were glossy with pain. "No you don't, girl," Kadaj insisted as he stoked the side of her head where her whiskers bristled. Pulling his shirt over his head, he pressed it firmly against the wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood. He mentally cursed the fact the neither he nor Chaos could wield Materia. Vendetta needed medical attention and fast.

Chaos, having completed his grisly task, appeared at Kadaj's side.

"We have to get her to a medical facility." Kadaj looked at Chaos' wings speculatively.

"Sorry, kid. She must weigh close to 150 pounds. Even I can't fly that much weight, especially not all the way back to Edge. My wings aren't built for that kind of endurance."The demon did seem apologetic, if that were even possible.

Think, think, Kadaj mentally admonished himself. We need a helicopter. Unfortunately, those were not exactly in ready supply. Three places had helicopters at their disposal: the WRO, Shinra, and the NeoMidgar news station. The news station was out – no way was he going to be able to convince them to come and airlift a giant beast back to the city.

Kadaj pulled his cell phone out, for the first time grateful to Vincent for giving it to him. His fingers hesitated over the preprogrammed numbers, then moved to the bottom of the list and connected the call.

"Who is this and how did you get this number?" an evenly modulated voice demanded.

"Rufus, it's Kadaj. I need a favor."

"Really?" The question was accompanied by an amused chuckle. "I didn't realize we were on a favor-granting basis."

"I'm serious. I need a helicopter on the outskirts of Kalm – with a medic."

Kadaj was sure his grim tone conveyed his urgency, but Rufus wasn't ready to comply so easily. "It'll cost you."

"I don't care. Get the chopper here. I am sending you our coordinates now."

"We'll talk soon." The call disconnected.

Kadaj sent the coordinates. Then there was nothing to do but wait. The minutes seemed to drag by at an excruciatingly slow pace as Kadaj stroked Vendetta and tried to keep her as calm as possible. For once he was glad Chaos was not the talkative, reassuring type. He didn't think he could have borne false encouragement. The truth lay bare before him: Vendetta could die before the helicopter even arrived, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

The beat of the propellers gave notice of the helicopter's approach long before its sleek black form could be seen. This was why he had called Rufus. Any other option would have taken too long, but Rufus must have managed to get the chopper in the air almost immediately after his call. Vendetta was still breathing, and the chopper was growing larger by the second, the red Shinra logo on its metallic side proudly heralding its allegiance.

The grass flattened beneath the helicopter as it came to rest twenty feet from them, and several figures jumped out.

Kadaj shuffled back to let the one in the white lab coat examine Vendetta. Her eyes were detached and her movements calmly efficient. She stabilized the guard hound with a Cure Materia before instructing the others on securing her to a stretcher and moving her to the helicopter. If the medic was fazed by finding her patient to be an enormous dog-beast, she covered it well. But then again, she worked for Shinra.

"Will she be okay?" Kadaj asked anxiously.

"Should be. Looks like we got here just in time. We will need to transport her to Edge and perform a few more procedures, but the Cure Materia stopped the bleeding, which is the important thing. We'll keep her sedated for the flight back to Edge."

Kadaj ducked low as they moved under the spinning blades and boarded the chopper. His eyes went first to the guard hound in the open bay. She took up most of the space and were it not for the blood still caking her black fur and making it stand at odd angles, she looked as though she might have been merely sleeping.

Moving to her side and ascertaining that she was still breathing regularly, he allowed his eyes to roam the remainder of the aircraft's interior. The space was more crowded than he would have expected. The doctor had entered the helicopter before him along with the two men who had helped move the stretcher. Chaos had come in behind him, briefly making the vehicle cant to one side with his added weight.

Across from Kadaj sat the ex-president himself. Or was he still president? Kadaj realized he had no idea what the current structure of the company was or even if Shinra Co. still existed. Either way, Rufus Shinra was a force to be reckoned with, commanding both power and money. Kadaj had not expected Rufus to be aboard the chopper. Unbidden, the memory of his last encounter with the man came to mind. His words as he revealed Jenova's remains still cut to the quick: A good son would have known.

In the cockpit, he recognized both the pilot and co-pilot – formerly unwilling guests of his in what now seemed like another lifetime. The Wutainese man gave no sign of recognition, coldly professional. The blonde, on the other hand, had turned in her seat to glare back at him. Large flight muffs covered her ears, but nothing covered her disgust for him. A subtle movement from her Turk counterpart made her swing forward in her seat again. There was no doubt in his mind, however, that her thoughts were still entirely focused on him.

In the weeks he had been back from the Lifestream, he had not considered these two. They simply had not crossed his mind. Now, faced with the female Turk's animosity, he recalled in vivid detail the capture and torture of Shinra's elite. It had not been pretty. At the time, it had been insignificant – the only thing that had mattered was finding Jenova. All actions in that direction had been justifiable. Granted, the Turks were not the most innocent of individuals themselves, but what the brothers had done to them…

In the light of everything that had happened to him since, and in the absence of Jenova, he had to admit what he and his brothers had wrought against these Turks was unthinkable… monstrous. It was amazing the two had survived after they were mysteriously rescued.

He did not want the Turks here. He did not want the odd sense of shame that he felt upon seeing them.

His gaze returned to the guard hound where his hand gently caressed her neck. No, he did not want to be confined in this small space with Rufus and the Turks, but if it saved Vendetta, he would not count the cost to himself. A cost of which he still didn't know the sum. It'll cost you, Rufus had said. I don't care, he had replied.

Not long after the helicopter had lifted and spun its nose back in the direction of Edge, the white clad businessman leaned in closer to him, his smooth skin unmarked by traces of the geostigma. He spoke, his evenly modulated voice barely audible above the steady beat of the chopper blades. "You may not know this, but I had a guard hound too, once: Dark Nation." His mask seemed to slip for a moment, revealing a deep pathos. Or was that the mask? The blond reached down further to stroke the guard hound, careful not to soil his white sleeve with her blood.

Kadaj had not known Rufus had owned a guard hound, nor was he sure why the he was telling him now.

"They used to say that I never bled and never cried… maybe they still do. That's not strictly true though. Wasn't true even then – I wept when Dark Nation died… that and one other time. Dark Nation is the one point Cloud and I are not entirely even on… but that's water under the bridge."

Their eyes met over the unconscious body of the sedated guard hound. Why was Rufus telling him these things? Was the man truly sympathetic? This man who had sent his Turks to eliminate Kadaj just month and a half prior? Or was this a manipulative play on his emotions? It was impossible to tell with the indecipherable former president. The cunning man was able to convey enough sincerity to make anyone want to believe him, even knowing firsthand his history of deceit. Rufus had held Jenova on his lap, and Kadaj had not discerned his lie. A good son would have known.

Kadaj glanced away and out through the chopper window. Already Edge was coming into view.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The whelp had stayed at the side of his guard hound all through her unloading at the Edge medical facility and her treatments there. Chaos had to give the boy credit for one thing: when he gave his loyalty – whether to alien or beast – he gave it wholeheartedly and without reservation. He only wondered if the kid knew what he had gotten himself into with Rufus Shinra.

The teen had been reluctant to leave the guard hound when they were summoned to meet with Shinra, but there was no point in putting it off any longer. The kid had retrieved his black leather clothing from their packs – his t-shirt, soaked in guard hound blood, was beyond salvaging. Now, clean and metaphorically dressed for battle, the whelp waited in a small conference room in the medical facility. Waited, because Shinra had arranged it that way, he had no doubt. Nothing happened in Rufus' domain that wasn't by design. Chaos wasn't sure what kind of support he could lend, but if the kid could be loyal to his pet, well, Chaos could be to his as well.

The door swung open to admit Rufus Shinra, flanked by two dark-suited men. Turks – were they there for protection or intimidation? In contrast to the dark suits of his Turks, Shinra wore a white suit over a dark dress shirt. So like the man himself, Chaos reflected – squeaky clean and untouchable on the outside, but with dark secrets concealed underneath.

Chaos watched the two young men as they observed each other: each evaluating his opponent, seeking a weakness. Perhaps he had been playing too much chess with the tadpole, but he was struck by the similarities between the two. There was even a symmetry in their attire, both having a flair for the dramatic. Like two chess kings standing in opposition – Rufus' ivory pitted against Kadaj's ebony.

No, that wasn't quite it – they weren't like kings, limited to just a few moves. No… gender aside, they resembled two chess queens: powerful, unpredictable, and uninhibited. The remnant was the less confident, although he disguised his uneasiness as well as ever, his silver hair a shield over his emotions.

It was ivory's move, but Chaos always played black. He wouldn't count the teen out of this game yet – they were a long way from checkmate.

"I hear the guard hound is expected to make a full recovery." The quiet, cultured voice held a thread of power. Soft-spoken, no doubt, because its owner was used to having everyone stop to listen to him, not out of any innate gentleness or timidity.

"I suppose you want me on my knees thanking you," Kadaj replied defensively.

"We're both businessmen here. No need for dramatics." Rufus turned slightly, steepling his fingers. "Now, about the price…"

"When you're dealing with the devil, the price is always your soul."

"Perhaps we might be more comfortable speaking privately?" Rufus held Kadaj's eyes with his own as he ignored Chaos' comment.

"Chaos stays. You can dismiss the Turks, if that would make you more comfortable, sir."

Chaos smirked at Kadaj's sarcasm. Interesting, seemed the whelp didn't have much trust for the ex-president. Or was it that he didn't trust himself alone with Shinra?

"That won't be necessary." The white-clad mogul sat and exchanged the steepling of his fingers for a two fingered tapping on the armrest of his chair. "Please, sit."

Kadaj remained standing. "What is it you want, President Shinra? Oh, or is that title outdated? I have been out of the loop for a while, you may have heard. Have you upgraded to 'His Imperial Majesty' yet?" The cunning gleam in his eyes wasn't entirely concealed by the silver curtain of hair.

"If you must have a title, I prefer… philanthropist. As to what I want, actually, you are exactly what I want. We are looking to hire a little… muscle. My sources tell me this is right up your alley."

"Isn't that what your Turks are for? Your dirty work?" Chaos' comment cast a shadow across the usually impenetrable visage of the businessman. He had hit the mark there. His experiences within Vincent's mind gave him a very accurate picture of what the Turk profession entailed.

"But, sir, surely you would not consider one as young as I for a position amongst your illustrious Turks?"

Ha! Sometimes he loved the boy's cheek. The Shinra Company of old was well-known for recruiting mere children, often orphans, for their Turk program. If anything, the whelp was past the age for Turk recruitment.

The two fingers ceased their tapping. "That isn't exactly what I had in mind. What I have for you is one simple assignment." He nodded at one of the Turks who deposited a plain manila folder on the table. Rufus gave the file a nudge in the direction of Kadaj. "A small task really: to clean up a minor mess of the Shinra Company's making. All we want in the end is to rebuild our world, to repair the damage that's been done."

Kadaj flipped the folder open, revealing a photo of a man, his muscled chest bare, shoulder-length white hair standing at odd angles. "Clean up a Shinra mess… you mean like how you sent your Turks for me?" There was dangerous gleam in the teen's eye, and Chaos was reminded once again that this was no ordinary youth, but a remnant of Sephiroth.

"Ah, well, let us think of that as a little… misunderstanding, shall we?"

Kadaj's sound of disbelief echoed Chaos' own internal response.

"Think of it as an… opportunity, then. You don't approve of my Turks' methods? Invent your own. I am not saying you have to terminate him. If you can bring him in alive, that will be acceptable, but he can't be allowed to roam free. He's dangerous. And do remember, you're the one who called me, not the other way around."

"Alive, huh?"

"Take the folder, read through it. Your hound won't be ready to leave for another day. Have an answer for me by then." Rufus stood and moved to the door, where he halted again. "We would, of course, pay all of your expenses. We might also be able assist in your… other search." Without waiting for a reaction, the man exited the small room with his Turks flanking him.

Chaos studied the youth as he flipped through the file. He had no interest in becoming entangled in Rufus' web. The Shinra boy had a reputation for playing the long game, and his true motives were anyone's guess. But now it looked like he wouldn't have much choice: the whelp was already knee deep in the matter, and if Chaos didn't want his stray to become Rufus' kept pet, his best bet was to help resolve the situation as quickly as possible. It wouldn't be easy, though. Weiss had been the head of the Tsviets, the mastermind of Deepground. Defeating him had been a challenge for even the highly experienced Valentine.

Yep, looked like he would be coming to the whelp's rescue yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Kadaj flipped the file closed and let his fingers drum a rhythm on it as he thought. The file was thin, but contained an impressive amount of detail, no doubt courtesy primarily of the Turks. Chaos' disclosure of his – or rather Valentine's – experiences with the massive Tsviet had further fleshed out the situation. He hadn't realized how close to the truth he was hitting with his remark on the similarity between the Turks attacking him and Shinra sending him after Weiss. Cleaning up Shinra's messes. That's how Rufus saw it. But, like himself, Weiss hadn't been entirely in control of himself when he sought to destroy the Planet. That had been Hojo's consciousness working through him – just like Jenova's will had fueled Kadaj's actions.

As he reviewed the situation, three points rose to the surface. First, he owed Shinra for Vendetta's rescue; there was no question of that, much as he hated the fact. Secondly, he had wanted a chance to redeem himself, and what better way than bringing this warrior back from the brink? Finally, Weiss was in danger of being eradicated without a second chance, without the second chance Kadaj had been given. Maybe he could accomplish three things in one? If he could turn Weiss around and bring him in peacefully, he would be even with Shinra. He would be doing a good deed. And, perhaps, he might find a kindred spirit in Weiss, a brother without all the history he had with Cloud, a brother who would be eternally grateful to Kadaj for saving him.

Chaos had warned him against taking Weiss lightly, but that wasn't what this was. This was seizing an opportunity to set things right. Chaos couldn't see it because he had fought against a version of Weiss that was controlled by Hojo, and Hojo would always be Chaos and Vincent's mortal enemy. Kadaj had never met the maniacal Shinra scientist and was glad he was dead. He refused, however, to let Hojo's actions taint him against Weiss.

No, Weiss could be salvaged.

Rufus' parting comment had also raised new hope. With the resources of Shinra at his disposal, perhaps he could locate Yazoo and Loz after all…

If all went according to plan, he might have to thank Rufus when this was all over, when Yazoo, Loz, and Weiss were all joined in brotherhood with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to take a quick moment to thank those who have left kudos and especially those who have left comments. I appreciate them more than you know! On the other site where I post this story, I pm commenters, but I am not as familiar with the process on this site. Please know that I still appreciate your support and comments ever so much.
> 
> Merry Christmas,
> 
> Vendetta

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! This is a repost from Fanfiction.net but I wanted to share it with my friends on AO3 who may not have accounts over there. 
> 
> I hope you will add this story to your subscriptions and join Chaos and Kadaj for subsequent chapters. Their adventures are just getting started.
> 
> You may have noticed some slight variations in the dialogue. You might also protest that the defeat of Omega, specifically Chaos using the Protomateria to destroy Omega, is not in line with the official version. Please forgive these variations and recall that this fic is a Slight AU. I will attempt to be true to canon in most areas.
> 
> Reviews are welcome. This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so feedback is appreciated.
> 
> I want to express my deepest gratitude to ScribeofRhapsody for acting as beta-reader for this story. Her support and attention to detail have been indispensable. If you haven't already read her fanfiction Shattered: Act I, I HIGHLY recommend it.
> 
> Update schedule: Updates will be posted every 2-4 weeks. I know that is a bit vague, but the flexibility means I will be able to update within the promised parameters.
> 
> Disclaimer: All due credit for the FFVII Compilation and its content goes to its creators and copyright holders. No infringement is intended by this work of fanfiction.
> 
> ~VendettaSmiles~


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